


Crawling Back to You

by aFewOccasionallyFidgeting, UngarnMoc



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Bisexual Jacob Frye, Biting, Consensual Kink, Consensual Underage Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fryecest - Freeform, Hair-pulling, High School, Jacob's a bit of a slut in the best way, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Name-Calling, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, They're 17, Twincest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-23 01:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aFewOccasionallyFidgeting/pseuds/aFewOccasionallyFidgeting, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UngarnMoc/pseuds/UngarnMoc
Summary: Unabashedly inspired by PoetHrotsvitha's Are You Mine?, it's a smutty smutty modern au of fryecest with a heavy kink slant and a big focus on enthusiastic consent and safe play. Summary will likely be adjusted later to account for actual plot, for now just expect a hefty dose of smut and little sprinklings of fluff as well. [Title c/o the Arctic Monkeys] [Age of consent is 16 but I'm still gonna tag underage even though they're 17]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well... um... we're a bit trash for this ship. I, personally, am a bit trash for writing an actively bisexual verse-leaning top Jacob. We went for full-on smut. Please join us wallowing in this beautiful garbage.  
> -aFOF
> 
> Just a bit xD Well, we don't even regret it and if you have any thoughts about the thing we are currently doing, please share :D - UM

Jacob had one girl to thank for his dirty talk vocabulary. That girl was Jen Reese. She was the one who’d introduced him to just how fun words could be. Before Jen, there was a lot of ‘fuck yes’ and ‘oh god,’ but _after_ …

“...to taste every drop. I want you to ride my tongue. I want to tease that cunt until you’re dripping down my chin and the only thing that can finally bring you some release is my cock slamming into you over and over.” He kept his voice low, too aware that he wasn’t alone in the house, even if his door was closed. But Alice was so damn _needy_.

She was whining - whimpering, more like - humming over the line. “Oh my _fucking_ god-”

Alice. Alice Alice Alice. She’d gotten his number from her mum after he’d finished their gutters -- he’d been making the rounds doing odd jobs for upper middle-class suburban housewives to build up some savings for uni (the likelihood he’d be snagging a scholarship like Evie was… low). She wasn’t the first one of his client’s kids to start something. There had been Jen, and Rose. And Terrence. Jacob was starting to wonder if he’d built up some kind of reputation as a call boy.

But Alice was a prep school girl. In fact, Jacob was pretty sure she attended Evie’s rival school. Alice and Jacob were friends. Friends that, on occasion, did horrible things to each other. It was a mutually beneficial relationship.

“Pull my hair,” she panted.

“Mmm, you like that?” He murmured into his phone, his free hand tapping his forgotten pencil against the desk. He’d been _trying_ to do maths when she’d texted her little _thinking of u, got a minute? ;)_ message. And, being the generous friend that he was, he’d obliged. “The way your back arches like that- it’s so fucking hot Als, holding you down while you writhe on my cock.”

He shifted a bit in his seat, checking the clock on his nightstand. Shit, he’d be called down to dinner any minute now. He stood from the desk, setting aside his work and adjusting himself, listening patiently to Alice working out her sexual frustration with a strangled, “Fuck yeah.”

Another encouraging hum of approval, punctuated by a low guttural groan as he stretched his back. He carefully tried to tune out all the lovely noises she made. Realizing it may become a lost cause, he tucked himself under his waistband in a calculated move to make it a bit less obvious if he couldn’t get rid of it before dinner. Finally, though, she seemed done.

She let out a long sigh. “ _Fuck_ you’re good at that.”

“So I’ve been told,” he mused with a smirk, flexing his thighs hard in an attempt to lessen the still-too-obvious bulge in his pants. “How was the date?”

Alice groaned. “Why do you think I called you?” she pointed out, bitterly.

“That bad, huh?” There, things were getting a little easier. He checked the clock again. “Shit Als, I gotta go - dinner.” Dinner was usually on the table at six o’clock. It was already five past. His father wouldn’t be happy.

“What, didn’t have your fill of my vag?” she teased.

“You’re delicious, love, I promise,” he slipped back on his shoes, opening the door to head downstairs, “but I can’t exactly count your A-1 quim as a-” He stopped, swallowing his words with a sudden cough, balking at the doorway. Evie stood there, poised as though she were about to knock. “Later, Alice,” he mumbled hurriedly, hanging up. He just stared at his sister, feeling the blush rising on his cheeks, before he cleared his throat. “Supper ready, then?”

* * *

She could hear him talking to someone – probably on the phone. Couldn’t really tell what he was saying, but his voice… it wasn’t a friend of his, not even close to that. Jacob usually was very cheerful with his friends – and he had plenty of them – laughing and talking way too loudly. This time he sounded totally different; low voice, dark tone, the one that crawled under her skin and made her itch after him.

Those bad thoughts again. No, she couldn’t think about that, it wasn’t right – she really should have some social life, her imagination had begun to seriously scare her. Did this happen because she was so isolated by her textbooks and heavy literature and countless extra lessons? She’d already read about the topic, trying to figure out what was happening with her, and it was clear enough she should have more human interaction, because the way she lived now wasn’t healthy. But what should she do? Go out? Meet boys? Nah, no, that wasn’t for her. Evie wasn’t interested in going out or parties. Jacob was the more outgoing, fun twin, she... she was the boring one. The way-too-serious grey mouse sister of the golden boy Jacob Frye. And she accepted that.

She was so lost in her thoughts – or maybe so lost in his voice, eavesdropping on him like a creep – the opening door and his figure standing in front of her totally surprised her, almost making her gasp.

Jacob was a bit taller than her, not that much, just barely enough to be noticeable, but still. Painfully handsome, very athletic, and he had this weird aura - a mixture of _‘I am a bit of freak, but also I do what I wanna do, when I wanna do it, and with whomever I want.’_ Such a freedom, it was something that she never really had, not even close.

It was fucking tempting.

A quick look at his face almost made her ask him what he was doing behind the closed door, but she stopped herself. She wasn’t really sure she wanted to know – especially hearing his last words crystal clear. The door was open and she was right in front of it; it was hard _not_ to hear. So, another girl on his list. Because he had a list, Evie knew. It wasn’t too difficult to keep track of that, Jacob didn’t hide them very well. To give him some credit, he tried to, but being discreet wasn’t his thing and probably never would be. Ethan didn’t mind - or didn’t care enough to question him - but Evie did care, a lot. Way too much.

_Here we are once again… Just forget your perv brother already; you don’t need to deal with this sick shit, you don’t need to know anything about it._

Who was she kidding? Deep down she wanted to know, if only to use the information when no one saw her, but Evie tried to stop herself going down that path.

“Yes. Father sent me to drag you out of your hole, even if I needed to use some force to succeed.” She tried to give him a casual grin, but all she could manage was a faint smile. _God Evie, collect yourself…_

“Hurry up, or he’ll come up instead of me,” she added, then simply turned around and lazily jogged back to the kitchen. Ethan and his rules… Sometimes Evie thought their father was a control-addict freak, and wondered how much of that she inherited from him.

* * *

Dinner was… interesting. Jacob couldn’t help the occasional questioning glance toward Evie, wondering just how much of his session with Alice his twin had heard. They ate quietly, which wasn’t exactly unusual. Ethan asked a few questions about Evie’s classwork. (But not Jacob’s.) Ethan suggested Evie start looking into more scholarship opportunities. (But not Jacob.) And Jacob sat through it, calmly eating his meal, dutifully not spending the whole time checking his phone. Finally, almost done with his food, he pushed some peas around on his plate and cleared his throat.

“So, uh… there’s this party tonight.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed and he hummed skeptically. “Who’s party?”

“Remember I did some roof work for the Harts? Terrence Hart is doing a thing.” He held his fork a bit too tight, anxiously awaiting a verdict. He _could_ sneak out, but he’d really prefer not to. Besides, the Harts lived in the Good Part of Town, had a good reputation- and the last time Jacob had sneaked out Ethan had confiscated his keys for a week and he’d been forced to take the bus.

Ethan seemed to be thinking for a moment. “Evie, you know this Terrence?”

Jacob quickly interrupted. “Yeah, he’s in her bio lab, right Evie?” This was patently untrue. Terrence attended St. James, like Alice. Evie attended the other independent grammar school in the area, St. Sebastian. (Jacob, meanwhile, puttered along in public education.) He watched his twin with a steady gaze, knocking his foot against hers lightly under the table. _C’mon Evie, just say yes_.

* * *

Dinner was average. Ethan gave all of his attention to Evie, who honestly hated it -- hated how their father pretended he only had a daughter who was a saint and did well in school and in the extra lessons, hated how much extra stress this put on her shoulders, and hated how Ethan just got rid of Jacob mentally.

She never voiced any of these thoughts. She wanted to so many times, but she couldn’t – it was easier to play along and be daddy’s good girl, and let Jacob be the black sheep. Was it because Ethan was a single parent and Evie was feeling sorry for him? Or was she just too weak to stand her ground against their father?

Probably the latter, and she hated herself for it. She felt how the anger fired up inside her and she tried her best to let that fire die, hiding it, never letting it out. She had some practice with it over the years – and as a result she’d experienced insomnia, random emotional sessions with lots of crying, and probably some level of depression. Yaaay, happy childhood.

She would say yes to anything if that meant she could retreat to her room, far away from this forced family reunion, so, whatever Ethan asked of her, she played her part as she always did. The same every evening.

Jacob broke this monotone acting with his question – no, not question, he was asking for daddy’s permission to go out. He rarely did that. Probably stopped doing that after they hit 10.

It must be important then. Too important to risk a grounding.

Evie did know this Terrence. Knew of him at least, going to the rival school and being a douchebag. Or maybe she only knew of him because of the stupid rivalry between their schools (that of course had an effect on their students as well, resulting in tension and hate).

For a moment she gave Jacob a hard stare, not really believing he was using her as his alibi to go out and do whatever he wanted to. After that phone call, he was probably going out to that girl to finish what they’d started. Why would Jacob even ask for Ethan’s agreement?

Honestly, it wasn’t the fact that Jacob was using her that angered her most – it was that he thought she was too stupid to notice.

All she had to do was say no. No, I don’t know this Terrence. I’ve never heard of him. Or I have heard about him, and he’s a problematic kid. Drugs. Sex. Whatever posh kids did – she’d heard the rumors of how those parties went; rich parents’ rich kids, bored, with daddy’s money in their pocket.

Definitely not a book club.

But if there was anything Evie couldn’t stand it was lying, and Jacob _was_ still her brother.

_You just let him use you as he wants._

“Yes, I know him.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. And Jacob could do whatever he wanted with that information.

It wasn’t her business, anyway. He’d be out, partying – whatever that meant to him – and she’d be home, studying. She still had some mathematics to do – no, not really, she was finished with her homework hours ago, but it was better than sitting and staring at her wall.

* * *

Jacob felt that telltale smirk creeping onto his face as she agreed. _Good girl_. It very quickly stopped when he met his father’s eyes again.

Ethan was watching Evie with doubtful eyes. Still, he trusted _one_ of them at least. “...And are you invited as well, Evie?”

“Yes.” Jacob quickly answered for her, saving her the lie. It wasn’t _really_ a lie-- he was pretty sure Terrence would be fine with him bringing anyone he wanted. “But Evie said she had homework so, you know, what a shame, another Friday night lost to that damned calculus, eh?”

Their father watched Jacob now, not hiding his suspicion. “...I’ll tell you what: you can go.”

_Yes_. “Thanks dad, I’ll-”

“But you’re taking Evie with you.”

Jacob balked. Evie wasn’t exactly a party person.

And Ethan knew it, based on his self-satisfied smile. “Have fun being the designated driver, Jacob.”

Well. There went a fun night. Not that he _needed_ alcohol to have a good time, but it certainly didn’t _hurt_. And Evie as a ball and chain was… he held back a groan. God, bringing sister dearest as a tag-along was going to be… ugh. And with Terrence… His jaw tightened. So much for keeping his sex life private from the family. “...Right. Okay. Fine.” He gritted his teeth, shooting an annoyed look at his father as he stood and began clearing the table.

* * *

He was so fucking full of himself. Sometimes Evie could tear his clothes off of his body and just devour him alive. And sometimes she could kill him with a spoon. Now, the latter was true. No matter that she held a fork – it would do as well.

_“And are you invited as well, Evie?”_

Weird question – Evie had no idea how their father linked her to the party.

'No,’ she wanted to say, not seeing anything strange in that.

_“Yes.”_ Jacob was faster, almost barking out his answer, not letting her speak. She looked at him, unable to hide her surprise. But he wasn’t finished. _“But Evie said she had homework so, you know, what a shame, another Friday night lost to that damned calculus, eh?”_

He _clearly_ didn’t want her to tag along. Asshole. Well, she’d end up at Cambridge or Oxford, while God knows where he’d be and at the end it all. Worth it, it must be worth it, living this miserably without a proper family or a life…

_“I’ll tell you what: you can go.”_

Evie couldn’t really keep up with the conversation, turning her head toward her brother first, now looking back at their father, not really believing what he’d just said. She never asked him to let her go to a party. Or a girl’s night. Sleepover. Whatever. She was never invited to those things, but Evie was sure Ethan wouldn’t let her go, anyway. Her place was at home, far from trouble. Now he wanted to let her go with Jacob, who was trouble itself?

Jacob tried to object, but it was no use. He may be unwilling, but he’d been the one who dragged her into this, creating a mess of his own fun night. Oh the irony – it was quite funny if she thought about it. Maybe she’d enjoy the night after all, seeing the sour face of the girl he was supposed to fuck into oblivion – even if that made her the cockblock now and she’d probably be referred to as such. Was it worse than the names she got called over the years behind her back? Doubtful.

He could do nothing now but agree. After ten more highly uncomfortable minutes, Ethan finally dismissed them and they headed toward the stairs, silently jogging up them, toward their rooms, to prepare for the party that night.

“Poor Alice, will be very disappointed, I guess.”

Her voice was casual, like she was chatting about the weather, surprising even herself. She didn’t really mean to say it out loud. She was _thinking_ about it, but not saying it aloud.

* * *

To his credit, Jacob didn’t trip. On the contrary, he actually laughed. He hadn’t expected Evie to be so bold as to mention it again. And he couldn’t entirely bring himself to be embarrassed. The bitterness in her tone had made it clear she wasn’t _entirely_ looking forward to this party, so maybe some small spiteful part of him was happy to see he wasn’t the only one suffering for their father’s decision.

He shot a smirk at his sister. “She might be, if she was going to the party, sure.”

Alice and Terrence ran in different circles. Alice was the kind of girl Jacob knew from his own school: occasionally going out but mostly spending time bitching about her parents and Instagramming. Not some kind of punk or party-drug girl, not a head bitch or nerd, just about as apathetic as he often was. And Terrence was… well, he was the first guy that ever made a move on Jacob. Ridiculously self-assured, if occasionally coy, with big goals and plans to make them happen. He was one of the few out gay kids at St. James. Given his stereotypical involvement in the theater program, Jacob expected to be surrounded by dorks. Evie might actually fit in, for once.

He hopped a couple steps ahead, spreading his arms across the stairs to block her path. “Look, princess: I’m going to this party.” He informed her, bluntly. “I’ve got a friend to meet. _You_ are leaving this house with me, whether you like it or not.” He took an intimidating step down toward her, though his smirk remained, patronizing. “If you want me to drop you at the library for you to do your nerd thing, I’ll be happy to.” His voice was low, too quiet for their father to overhear from his study, but forcibly cheerful. “Or you can come to the party, fine -- just _stay out of my way_.”

* * *

The way he talked to her and called her names was only adding oil on the fire.

“A friend to meet. More like a girl to fuck,” she snapped back at him. “I don’t care what kind of shit business you have over there, Jacob-” He already stood too close to her, putting her under almost unbearable pressure. She raised a hand and shoved him back forcefully to get him out of her personal space. “-But do not use me as your ticket to get out of this house ever again. I am your sister, like it or not, not your next toy to use as you like.”

Circling him around just to get out of his way and stay on the route toward her room, she reached her door, turning back to add another thing.

“I won’t lie to Father for your sake; I am going, or if you wanna get rid of me I’ll come back and tell him how heartlessly you ditched me at the library.”

* * *

A girl to fuck? He snorted, rolling his eyes at her whinging. Her shove took him by surprise, stumbling out of her way, but his smirk didn’t break. “First foul language and now violence? This is not how clever girls solve their problems,” he called after her as she stormed away to her room.

Whirling back on him, her obstinance was almost endearing. It would be cuter if it didn’t mean she’d be on his back all night. He pulled a face. “You want to come?” He took a few casual steps toward her. “Fine. Come.” His shrug was unusually aggressive. “Just loosen up for once in your life, Evie.” He shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets with a sigh. “We’ll leave in an hour.” As he turned to head to his own bedroom, he muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes, “Maybe _you_ need a girl to fuck, Christ.”

* * *

She almost threw a ‘fuck you’ at him. Almost, but she didn’t -- simply closed her door behind herself.

Party. Right.

How did people dress up for a party? How did _girls_ do it? Evie never really discovered her ‘girly side,’ didn’t own tons of outfits or make-up – she did have some make-up, but only the very basic things. She was more practical than attractive. Her life was about books and sports.

She didn’t want to put in too much effort, or else Jacob wouldn’t let her forget it all night long – and she didn’t wish to make a fool of herself either. Skirt and thigh high stockings would be more than enough, with a fitting top – casual, something she would wear to school, even.

She never had any issues with her looks. The girls around her always found something they were displeased with; too skinny, too thick, no bum or no breasts, but she could care less. She was tall and toned, thanks to her active lifestyle, but she never really tried to show her body to anyone. The freckles were a good enough reason to be bullied as a small girl, though. So many nights she wished for them to be gone by morning – it never happened, of course.

Anyway, that was in her past now, just a memory while she looked at her reflection, leaving her hair down – or perhaps just being too lazy to do anything with it. Usually she went with braids, because they were fun and had so many variations, but she didn’t consider this event important enough to be worth the extra effort.

Maybe she was too annoyed for something like this tonight, but she was way too stubborn to call it off.


	2. Chapter 2

Jacob slammed the door, shooting Evie a look across the roof of the car as they exited. “I’ve got my own stuff to do, alright? I can’t keep an eye on you all night.” His eyes flitted down her figure for a moment, but he made no comment on her choice of outfit. “Don’t accept drinks from strangers. If anyone touches you in a way you don’t want to be touched, kick ‘em. Or shout at them. Terrence knows good people, it shouldn’t really be an issue, but if it is don’t hesitate. It’s not like anyone knows you, there’s no reputation to ruin, so be as mean as you want. Mrs. Hart’s room is upstairs and to the left; if you need to crash, go there and lock the door.” His eyes skipped aside as he racked his brain for anything else he should mention. “Evie…” He looked at her again, hesitating. “Just… be smart, okay?”

* * *

She didn’t really speak to him during the ride. Once there she patiently waited for him to end his lecturing – who was he, Father? – and successfully stopped herself rolling her eyes at him. She should be smart? Look who was talking.

* * *

\---

“You made it!”

Jacob was hardly three steps in the door before Terrence pounced on him, grabbing him by the front of his leather jacket and quickly slipping his tongue in Jacob’s mouth.

Jacob felt his neck going red as he patiently pulled away, the boy’s arm slipping around his waist. “Right. Terrence.” He shot him a half-warning look. “This is Evie.”

Terrence cocked an eyebrow at her, eyes sweeping over her to evaluate in an instant.

“My sister,” Jacob added, pointedly.

Terrence lit up. Then blanched. “Oh god, you’re not out to your family,” he let out an apologetic hiss. “Sorry love,” his hand patted Jacob’s chest in a manner that didn’t feel particularly sincere, slipping up to pinch his cheek with a wide eyes and a cheeky pout; “Couldn’t resist.”

“Yeah, well,” Jacob grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away, meeting his gaze with a hard smirk. “You’ll just have to resist. For now.” There was a touch of teasing in his tone-- a touch that Terrence picked up on immediately, grinning.

“Is that a promise?” His nose brushed Jacob’s cheek, lips hovering at the edge of his jaw.

There were hoots from the foyer.

Jacob pulled away, rolling his eyes. “Can you hush your fangirls, please?”

Terrence snorted, but stepped away as well. “Like you don’t love the attention,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. He shot a smirk at Evie. “Nice to meet you, Jacob’s sister. Make yourself at home.”

* * *

Terrence was just like she remembered him – she’d never really spoken to him, but Evie often saw him, because of how close their schools were to one another. Jacob marched forward without her, but Evie didn’t mind; these were his people, better to let him do his stuff. Knowing fragments of his personal life - feeling like spying on him sometimes – was enough of a hint to know; he probably had his stuff.

But the kiss was still a bit surprising. Maybe that was the moment when Evie realized she didn’t really know a lot about Jacob. She hadn’t really known a lot about him for years. When had this happened? They were so close as kids, when did they become like two strangers, living in the same house?

Maybe when she started to notice her… troubling feelings?

Jacob introduced her, did the bare necessity, then he was gone and she quickly found herself alone in an alien house with bunch of strangers. A quick look to the side let her know her brother already was in the middle of a small group, greeting friends with a wide smile on his face. This would be a long night.

Already feeling nervous she wandered inside the house, exploring it, passing by happily chatting and tipsy people. Maybe a drink would help on her as well a bit, to loosen her nerves up a bit. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

Thankfully she found a wide variety of alcohol, waiting patiently to be poured into a glass and be downed, making people light headed. She looked over the bottles, starting with something light, maybe some mixture of alcohol and tonic. It was clearly a good appetizer and made her a bit curious for more, because in the next hours she opened up a bit, met with some new people, introduced herself – if her asshole brother left her alone, she wouldn’t be like the well-known boring Evie, no, it was time to try out something new, like chatting Evie or cheerful Evie… and most definitely drunk Evie, as she somehow always found a full glass in her hand, offering itself to drink, and drink it she did. Couldn’t really remember if she got it for herself every time or someone was giving it to her, but who the fuck cared anyway? She wasn’t stressed anymore, didn’t feel miserable now or facing irrelevant expectations like universities and scholarships, she was just… She was simply there. And it felt fucking good to just _be_.

* * *

“Wow, Jacob, really?”

Jacob felt the uncomfortable itch of a blush on his neck. “Christ, give me a second, kinda distracted-”

“Look, if you don’t want me to get you off, then I-”

Jacob cut Terrence off with two fingers hooked into his mouth, pulling him back down onto his knees. “I didn’t say that.”

With a cheeky grin, a tongue licked out over his digits, lips closing in an exaggerated sucking motion.

“First off-- much better.” Jacob smirked. “And secondly-- _excuse me_ for being a little weirded out that my sister completely gave me the cold shoulder after you slutted up and started snogging me.”

“Stop thinking about your sister,” Terrence demanded, irritably, splaying hands on Jacob’s thighs, “And start fucking my mouth. Jesus, why do I even have to ask?”

Suddenly Evie’s heavy silence took a back seat. Jacob let himself refocus on the hands slowly running up his legs, on the rush of blood making things suddenly much more sensitive. Hazel eyes darkened as he leaned forward, pulling Terrence to him by the mouth, breathing into his ear with a growl. “‘Cause I like to hear it.” Teeth bit at his earlobe, before drawing back once more. “Ask again.” His tone was about as hard as he was. “Nicely.”

“Please fuck my mouth?”

“That’s it.”

\---

“Ja-- Oh my god, sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no, it’s fine, come in.”

Terrence was the one blushing this time, his hands shaking on Jacob’s shoulders, straddling his lap yet both completely clothed. Their guest would’ve had to be on Jacob’s side of things to see the wet spot seeping into his jeans from where Jacob’s hand still rested on his inner thigh.

“What is it?” Jacob asked, casually, resting his chin on Terrence’s shoulder to watch the girl in the doorway, his thumb brushing teasingly over the head of his cock. He pointedly ignored the twitch of his partner, asking instead, “Everything alright?”

“Uh-- um. It’s, um. The girl you came with.”

Evie. Shit.

Jacob frowned, the flippant tone of his voice falling away as his ministrations ceased. “What happened?”

“She’s fine,” the girl assured, hurriedly. “Just a bit soused. We’ve been looking out for her but…” She glanced to the back of Terrence’s head, sounding apologetic. “I think she may need someone she actually knows.”

Jacob let out a heavy sigh. “Shit. Alright.” He adjusted his hold, drawing back to usher Terrence off of his lap.

“Excuse me but _what the hell_.”

He smirked. “I trust you can take care of it yourself,” he murmured, sinking a hard grip into the boy’s thighs for a moment, warningly. “I have to go babysit.”

“ _Jacob_.”

Jacob’s eyes flashed, and he heard a soft cough from the doorway from the quickly retreating girl as he dug fingers into Terrence’s hair, tugging hard. He kept his voice even as he spoke into the boy’s ear. “Fine, if that’s what you want, you _can’t_ take care of yourself. An hour, no touching.”

He felt the groan as Terrence’s hands tightened on his shoulders, half want and half irritation. “What the _fuck_.”

“And when you cum later, it’s my cock you’re thinking about, alright?” He whispered, nibbling at the boy’s ear again. “Mine. Every delicious inch, got that?”

There was a soft sigh. “...Fuck you.”

“Not tonight, unfortunately.”

\---

She was definitely drunk. Not as bad as some he’d seen - he wasn’t yet too worried about her vomiting - but definitely had had more than a couple. “Fucking hell, Evie.” He plucked the drink out of her hand, setting it out of her reach, and plopped down beside her.

* * *

She didn’t really know where she was or what had happened in the last hour. She found herself in the fresh air, in the pretty garden, and it seemed to be a good idea to lean against small kind of waist-high wall or something. She didn’t really care… about anything.

A familiar voice bothered her and then the familiar someone snatched her half-finished drink away – looking up she recognized her brother. Of course it was Jacob, it was always Jacob who nagged her or hurt her or just ignored her.

“Fuck you,” was her simplest answer to his whole existence in her life, not wanting to look at him at all. But he refused to go away, so she finally turned toward him, swaying a bit, but then found her balance and gave him a silent stare, slowly processing what she was looking at. He looked like he had when they’d arrived, but something was different. His hair was ruffled and there was an obviously purpling bite mark on his neck. So that’s why he was out of sight so quickly. Boys, girls; whatever he needed, apparently.

“Go back to your fuck toy, brother dearest, she must be desperate without you. Or him. Or both.”

These mood swings were pretty tiring, overly cheerful at the beginning and now quite blue -- dark blue. And painfully honest. It probably wasn’t a good idea to have Jacob around her, too much risk that she might tell him things she shouldn’t.

* * *

_“Fuck you.”_

“Yes, well, lovely to see you too, sweet sister,” Jacob murmured under his breath, entirely to himself, rolling his eyes at her eloquence. He raised an eyebrow at her thorough inspection of his person. Realizing his state, he awkwardly adjusted his collar, making a half-assed attempt to hide the bite.

_“Go back to your fuck toy, brother dearest, she must be desperate without you. Or him. Or both.”_

It stung. It did. Some part of him wanted to snap at her, to tell her _this_ is why he didn’t talk about his sexuality-- this _judgment_ he was getting. Thinking about what their father would say only made his stomach hurt. Ethan wasn’t particularly socially conservative - there was nothing to imply he _wouldn’t_ be entirely accepting of a bisexual son-- except that the bisexual son in question was _Jacob_. He could already guess at the stupid crap he’d get from his father - how he was irresponsible and indecisive and greedy and a hedonistic, morally bankrupt glutton. At least Jacob had already accepted he was a bit of a slut. He didn’t really want to hear it from his father.

He covered his anger with a spiteful biting tone. “Both, both is good. Haven’t done both yet, so _there’s_ something to try.” The words had hardly left his mouth before he pulled a face. That was mean of him. She was drunk. And, apparently, a sad drunk. He should at least _try_ to be sympathetic.

A slow breath in and Jacob breathed it out a heavy sigh. “Look, Evie, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay? It’s just-- well, it’s not really anyone’s business who I’m fucking, is it? It’s not like we’re _dating_ \-- it’s not like I’m in a _relationship_ with anyone. Just a bit of fun.”

The words came out before he could stop himself; “Not that you’d know what that is.”

* * *

Maybe she went way too far, she could see it in his reaction, when he showed her his sarcastic side and hurtful remarks. Classic defense mechanism.

She didn’t mean to hurt him, she truly didn’t. But she didn’t know how she could talk to him about well… them. As siblings. Or… no, there was no _‘or’_ \-- he clearly didn’t need her like… _that_. Probably that was too sick even for him.

_“Not that you’d know what that is.”_

No, he was right, she didn’t know. She let out a sigh, looked down to the ground, like she was ashamed of her situation.

“No, I don’t. I’m not like you Jacob, you have all the freedom you want, and what do I have? Expectations, uni applications and Father’s constant attention. The pushing to be better all the fucking time. To be competitive, emotionless and concentrating on my career, like I was already, what, 30? I’m not, and I don’t really know how long I can take this… While you’re out, clearly enjoying yourself with whoever you want, and can leave your problems behind -- and I have literally no one to talk to. Not even my twin brother, because he just thinks the same about me as everybody else. An annoyance, a burden; the girl who is ruining the fun.”

She couldn’t stop herself letting it all out, and Jacob was the unwilling victim of it, being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Look, I don’t care about your sexuality; you’re my brother and I love you, no matter what. Father can fuck himself, and anybody else who thinks differently. That’s all.”

She fell silent after that - it was an unplanned outburst, probably caused by the alcohol she’d poured down her throat. Maybe she’d regret it by tomorrow, but right now it felt good to finally open up a bit and talk about the things that hurt her almost the most - even if Jacob wasn’t really interested.

* * *

Christ, he hadn’t meant it like _that_. Jacob felt a little guilty, really. That was the upside of being a fuck up: expectations were low. Evie, however, was constantly trying. Most of it came naturally to her, of course, but it still took _energy_. And time. Meanwhile Jacob spent his time-- Okay, fine, he spent a good portion of it swanning off and doing whatever he wanted, along with the time spent at the gym, working odd jobs, or doing classes.

_“...Not even my twin brother, because he just thinks the same about me as everybody else. An annoyance, a burden; the girl who is ruining the fun...”_

“Evie…” Fuck, he couldn’t even argue that that wasn’t what he’d thought, since he’d basically said as much earlier in the night. It wasn’t what he thought, though. Not all of it, anyway. She wasn’t a burden, not most of the time. She didn’t _ruin_ fun, she just wasn’t there for it. And annoying? ...Not often. She wasn’t around to be annoying. She was always busy. Homework, extracurriculars, sport and clubs and outside lessons.

_“Look, I don’t care about your sexuality; you’re my brother and I love you, no matter what. Father can fuck himself, and anybody else who thinks differently. That’s all.”_

He was blushing. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed (more something he liked causing in others), but it was inevitable when speaking about his sexuality. It wasn’t like it was the most comfortable topic in the world. He ran an anxious finger under his thumbnail - a nervous twitch. Right, he’d had enough talk about that. He preferred to just… let it be what it was.

“You know… you’re allowed to have fun, Evie.” His words were cautious, sent with a sidelong glance at his twin. “If you want to go in and just, I dunno, go start snogging some chap, I’m not gonna stop you. It’s your prerogative.” He managed a crooked grin. “You may not have freedom at home, but here? No one knows you. You’re just some girl from St. Sebastian’s. If they even know that-- for all they know, you go to my school. You’re free tonight, Evie. Just… do it.”

* * *

She was giving him another stare, blue eyes never leaving his face, carefully considering his words. It was tempting, but honestly? The only boy she was after was in front of her, not in the house. Besides, having zero experience – well having limited, not totally zero – meant she was more of a shy doe rather than a fierce cat.

Blushing a bit about thinking what she could actually do – and what he could do at a party like this – she tucked a long lock behind her ear, a bit embarrassed.

“I’m not like you Jacob. Human interactions are beyond me, I just… I have no idea what to do around a bunch of strangers.”

It was a very unfamiliar field to her, and she never really found her place, never really fit in amongst people, not like Jacob. Others automatically loved him; he was charming, he’d just shoot a gorgeous smile at anyone and he’d win that person over, luring him or her closer to himself. Evie didn’t have that magic.

“Besides, what use can it be if I have to go back into the cage anyway? Not like Father would let me go. I doubt he’ll ever let me go.”

Sometimes Evie felt like, no matter what she did or how old she became, Ethan would forever be at her back. He clearly preferred her over Jacob, neglecting his son and pushing his daughter instead. Maybe she’d feel the same even once Ethan was dead, too.

What was she really asking of him? His help? Or company? Both? Did she really need what he already had?

Probably yes. In that moment she felt like it wouldn’t hurt to let everything go and do whatever she wanted, but if it also meant she could be closer to him, then that was a huge bonus.

* * *

He laughed, watching her from the corner of his eye as he shook his head amusedly. “'Human interactions?'” The comment had burst the steadily swelling bubble of Strong Emotions, hitting him with a nice refreshing gust of reality. He was practically snorting. “Evie, I hate to break this to you, but you know _you’re_ human, right?” That familiar grin had split his face. He turned to face her full on, smirking as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Give yourself a break, V. You’re drunk. Dad loves you -- loves both of us, even if the tosser isn’t so great at showing it.” He grabbed at the lock of hair brushing his hand, tugging it gently, playfully. “Take a minute to breathe.”

Shaking his head with another small huff of laughter, he stood, taking a step closer. He tucked a finger under her chin. Her eyes were far too bright. Definitely wasted. Probably should get her away from the alcohol. “God, you’re a sad drunk,” he teased. Anticipating some kind of rebuttal he rolled his eyes, weaving his fingers through her hair and ducking to give her a peck on the forehead. “Lighten up, will you?” he murmured quietly, giving her another chuck under the chin as he pulled away. He took a step back, and then another, heading back toward the house. “I’ll make my goodbyes. We’re heading home.”

* * *

His laugh also made her smile – God, his cheerful mood was contagious.

“I’m well aware of that.”

And yeah Ethan probably loved them, or she could pretend he did. He did, she was sure, he was just… well... bad at showing it properly. It didn’t mean it would be easier for her, but right now she should forget it.

His playfulness made her giggle a bit in the end, the stupid dork. Still, her breath kinda stopped for a moment, when he stepped into her personal space again. But it wasn’t like before on the stairs -- intimidating, wanting to dominate her. Right now, he was friendly and gentle. What else she could do but grin like an idiot when he made her look at him? “You should’ve come an hour earlier; I was the happy drunk then.”

She enjoyed this way too much. And was way too disappointed when he retreated, telling her the party was over for them and time to go home. Yes, home seemed to be a good idea after all. Before drinking some more, or maybe worse.

* * *

He raised an intrigued eyebrow at her admission. Now _that_ was a sight he’d love to see. Evie as a happy-go-lucky drunk. Not now, though. Not tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's some more of our trash! XD More Jacob smut. Next chapter has a bit more... intensity between the two of them. And then it's all downhill from there (in the best way). If you enjoy, feel free to leave a comment, they're always appreciated -- even guest comments, if you're not a fan of leaving your name on a lovely crackship like this (lbr, I'm posting this under a separate account for just that reason, I fully understand).  
> \- aFOF
> 
> Enjoy the sin :P Because you do, otherwise you wouldn't read it :D - UM


	3. Chapter 3

Goodbyes were a simple affair for Jacob; hitting up the few people he knew by name, grinning wickedly at a very frustrated Terrence. “Next time, next time,” he’d singsonged into the boy’s ear, giving him a swift kiss before excusing himself.

Back in the car, he’d verified that Evie was a least a little bit more sober (well, perhaps not ‘more sober’ so much as ‘less drunk’ -- less dizzy, anyway, and far less likely to ruin the upholstery) before helping her do up her seat belt. A moment was spent hooking up the right music on his slightly-out-of-date stereo system (something with a good bassline, and his preferred level of dirty lead guitar), and then they were off.

“So…” He glanced over at his sister with a half-smile. “First real house party?”

She didn’t get a chance to answer before his phone buzzed in his pocket. Once. Then again. He pulled it out and tossed it to Evie. “Answer that, would you?” It was probably their father. Though… It had stopped buzzing once he’d tossed it. So not a call, then. Just a text or three.

* * *

Her mood improved dramatically, hitting her cheerful level once again. She waited patiently for him while Jacob did his goodbyes, watching how he gave some extra time to Terrence. Brain clouded, not as sharp as she usually was, she still wondered a bit about this brand new discovery she’d made about Jacob. She really didn’t mind. It was his life and his business. What was important was for him to find someone who could truly love him. Because he needed love, she could tell; such a lovable dork, sometimes hiding behind his uncaring mask and playing the bad boy, but Evie was quite sure deep down he was dying for a gentle touch and a kind word sometimes. Just like she was.

Getting into the car was a bit tricky, especially matching the seat belt with it’s buckle, fingers too numb and her hand-eye coordination a bit too dull to earn her success – thankfully Jacob helped her out, while all she could do was laugh about it.

She was silent, enjoying the monotonous movement – she always loved car rides, usually staring through the window and just letting her mind wander far away, until she fell into a light sleep. Not today though, and Jacob’s question made her listen to him, putting her answer together in her head, but never getting the chance to voice it – his phone stole the show, and she caught it as he tossed it to her, asking her to check out what it was.

She swiped it open and tapped on the messages app – oh, it was a double hit from Alice. She opened it, understanding the words to be clearly meant for her brother and _only_ for him. Oh she would _definitely_ read this out loud.

The first was a simple _‘leaving already?’_ and a smiley, wanting to know if Jacob had headed home early or not. But the second was much more interesting…

“ _I want you to make me beg after your hard cock, making me gag_.” She read it to him, looking at him, then asking, voice and face perfectly innocent; “Should I answer that this sweet message already made you hard while you’re driving, or you want me to type something more detailed for her?”

* * *

Jacob’s eyes widened as she read, his fingers tightening on the wheel. “Jesus fucking Christ, Evie, that’s--” Had he ever heard her say the word cock? He might’ve heard her say someone cocked up, but _fuck_ not in a context like this. An almost manic laugh spilled from his mouth. What the fuck. What the _actual_ fuck. “You, uh-” God this was awkward. Some part of him was ever so slightly mortified, but another part wanted to just say fuck it.

“Look, just-” His laugh was a bit nervous. “Nevermind. Just. Not the text I thought it was.” He tried to shrug off her comment, holding out his hand for his phone.

It buzzed again. “-Don’t read that.”

* * *

Seeing his blush and awkwardness was strangely hot. Yes... yes, it was hot-- _really_ hot. Learning what he liked was something she was really curious about.

The phone buzzed again, and Jacob immediately told her not to open the message.

Oh she would definitely read that, as well.

“Oh wow.” She gasped a bit playfully, showing the phone to him, just out of his reach. “I can see now why you love to fuck her.”

It was a picture of (she assumed) Alice, in barely anything but her underwear; more like a pic of her sexy pants and private parts, clearly teasing herself as wetness glistened on her fingers, some fingers slipped inside of her. She was obviously able to put in three or even more digits – but clearly wanted to tease him, letting him know how ready she was for him.

“You have more pictures of her like this? Or of Terrence, too? Are you a trophy collector, Jacob, or do you just love to touch yourself looking at these?”

* * *

He snatched for the mobile as she held it out, but how the _fuck_ was she so fast when she was drunk? “Evie,” his voice was a warning, eyes flicking angrily between his sister and the road. “Give me the telephone, Evie.”

Fuck, now that image was already seared on his brain. Alice was always good at sexting. And that photo class had really paid off; she sent well-lit pics, that was for sure.

_“...Are you a trophy collector, Jacob, or do you just love to touch yourself looking at these?”_

He glared. He kind of was a trophy collector, actually. Not that it was any of her business. He was blushing, but at this point it was mostly irritation. Again, he held out his hand, palm up, demanding. “Give it.”

* * *

He tried to get the phone back, but her reflexes were still good – oh no Jacob, not now, not today. He clearly did not enjoy it as much as she did.

“No. It’s mine now,” she answered when he demanded the phone back, clearly annoyed with a hint of anger. “I wonder if you kept other pictures as well. I bet you did. Oh, I _bet_ you did,” she snickered, already tapping on the screen, looking through his gallery. She’d barely gotten into it when he was there again, reaching out, wanting the phone back.

Looking back at him, a teasing smile appeared on her face, like when they were around five years old and they always had a fight about some toys the other snatched away, not wanting to give it back. “Make me.”

* * *

He started with reason. “Honestly Evie, you really don’t want to look at that-” But she was already tapping through to his gallery. Oh god. That one album.

A road sign caught his eye and Jacob quickly pulled into the deserted parking lot of the petrol station, slamming the car into park uncomfortably quick. His stomach flipped, seeing the picture already pulled up on his mobile. Car off, he turned to Evie, one hand on his seat belt and the other out. “I swear to God, I will take your bloody hand off, Evie.”

* * *

“What about sibling sharing? We’re twins, we used to share things.” It probably made no sense, but that was the alcohol talking; it wasn’t her best remark, but she didn’t care. Pushing her back against the car door, she got away from him as much as she could, still keeping the phone and not planning on changing that.

“They’re just pictures, Jacob.” She tried to keep an eye on him, but another one on the phone, too, to finally have a look at the things she was after.

* * *

Christ, now was really not the time to remind him of that. Not when his eyes kept flicking to the screen, trying to see what exactly she’d found. His heart beat too hard, pulse in his ears as he made the split-second decision.

In a flash he’d lunged toward her, too late remembering to undo his seat belt, not _quite_ able to reach her far hand for the mobile, but getting a solid hold on her hair. “My phone, Evie,” he growled, tightening his grip. “Give me my _fucking_ phone.”

He could probably wrestle it out of her hand with his free one, at this point. But his blood was already up, and he didn’t need to get any closer. Grappling was dangerous territory for him. Best not do it with his sister.

* * *

In one moment she was enjoying having control over the situation. In the next, he was painfully close, grabbing her hair, making her yelp, her free hand going against his chest to hold herself up and not to fall against him – even if the seat belt almost made that impossible.

He was never like this with her before. She was so surprised, all she could do was stare at him with her huge eyes, feeling her pulse quickening, holding still. The heat came from him in waves and _that_ voice, God… The strong grip and his voice definitely did things to her -- not like she didn’t like to listen his voice usually, it was deep and rich, but now it was dark and even dangerous and _Godhavemercy_ …

Her other hand was still against her chest, not wanting to give the phone back to him. It was pure stubbornness at this point, Evie didn’t give anything up without a fight. She was used to _owning_ things - her grades, her sport successes - and if someone wanted something from her and she wasn’t willing to give it, well then they’d better be prepared to try and take it on their own.

* * *

Shit. Shit shit shit. She’d frozen. Which was, ostensibly, good. Except… except he could’ve sworn he recognized that look. Not from Evie, of course, but… it was _That Look_. Eyes wide, pupils blown, lips parted welcomingly, practically panting-- not a look he’d expected from his sister. Fuck. This was very not good.

There was a long beat of silence, his own breath heavy as well.

His gaze was guarded, morbidly curious, but he let himself do it anyway: his fingers tightened again, pulling her head back slowly, watching, listening, calculating what exactly her responses meant. She may have been the bookworm, but he’d made a careful study of something very different.

* * *

He didn’t go for the phone, which would be logical now – she couldn’t exactly best him in strength. Instead, he yanked her hair a bit again, pulling a handful of it, and she reacted. It forced a desperate whimpering out of her, muscles tensed up even more, catching her breath – her hand on his chest slipped a bit upward, found its resting place around his collarbone now, pressing on the deep purple bruise there, trying to… keep him away from her? No, not really, she didn’t really know _what_ she was trying to do. She felt cornered, but not in danger. Jacob was everywhere around her, but she didn’t really mind – she wanted more, instead. But more what? If _he_ wanted more – whatever that meant – would she let him?

According to the feeling in her lower parts - yes, maybe she would. Evie felt like she was edging toward something, something very bad, but so fucking tempting. She wanted to let everything go and just fall for it, and keep falling and falling. Another noise escaped from her, between a sigh and a mewling, still feeling so utterly desperate it almost hurt.

* * *

God, _fuck_. She was getting off on this. _He_ was getting off on this. _Fucking hell._ Her hand felt too hot, leaving a trail of sensation in its wake— he sucked in a hiss of breath as she pressed at the bite, that familiar pleasant zing shooting straight to the base of his cock. No; _bad thoughts, bad thoughts,_ not what he should— Then she made that noise.

“- _Fuck_ -” His word was a short sharp whisper in the dark, face flushed, an automatic response - a marveling - at that beautiful beautiful desperate sound.

Jacob grit his teeth. It was wrong. So wrong. He should let go of her. But god, the way she _looked_ at him. He tore his eyes away, instead staring at her other hand, clutching his phone to her breast like a trophy. It took a good deal of self control to put a hand over hers, prying the mobile out of her grasp, and not just— just doing something he’d regret.

“We’re going home.” His voice was gruff, hoarse, carefully avoiding those eyes - too blue and too clear and too obviously wanting - as he released his hold, settling back into his seat. Thank god they’d made it most of the way back before this whole debacle. He need only survive another few minutes in the car with her.

* * *

There was a moment when she wanted nothing more than to move forward and kiss him like there was no tomorrow, offering herself to let him do whatever he wanted with her. The urge was so powerful, Evie could swear she was trembling and that Jacob could feel it. He looked bewitched as well, frozen in this moment.

In the end he was the stronger one – he was able to collect himself and get back his phone, and she let him, feeling too weak to keep up the game, to keep resisting. And then – home. It was the last thing Evie wanted, her brain already making thousands of scenarios of how this situation could end, how it _should_ end, and she wanted _those_ , not going home. Even if going home was the smartest decision they could make.

She was silent for the rest of the drive, and Jacob too – probably thinking about what the fuck had just happened. She was thinking about that, recalling the moment when he grabbed her and… oh God, it still had a power over her, even the memory could make her heart race.

Once at home, Evie almost jumped out of the car and wanted nothing more than to hide in her room – she needed to work this off and _now._ Barely closing the door behind her she reached her bed, a hand already between her legs, panting and shivering and having the best fucking orgasm she’d ever had. It was hard not to make a sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally am a very impatient person, and should probably be waiting longer between editing and posting chapters. But this chapter is really short, so... that probably makes it okay, right? Anyway, always looking for comments -- favorite moments? Best lines? Emoji reactions? Feel free to leave one, even as a guest ^^  
> \- aFOF


	4. Chapter 4

After that night, one thing was pretty clear to Evie; there was no more denying, no more hiding from it. It was time to accept the truth: she had really bad thoughts about her twin brother, like it or not, and that wouldn’t change in the near future. The memories still haunted her, still made her blood boil, even if the days since that night had quickly passed. Evie tried to make herself busy with schoolwork and her several other activities, but Jacob was always in the back of her brain, more than ready to haunt her at night, making it almost impossible to sleep and making her whimper into her pillow as she tried to get rid of this urge, this want, panting and sweaty, but it was never gone.

* * *

She was getting careless.

It had been pretty easy to ignore any noises from his sister’s side of their conjoined bathroom for the first couple nights. She’d taken the time to close his side of the doors as well as hers, giving a buffer of space between them. But then she’d left his side open.

And then she’d left _her_ side open, too.

He’d tried, he really had, but Jacob was far from a saint. And lately he found himself a bit too curious about how a certain pair of pale pink lips would feel on him. So if he maybe paused by the bathroom door, putting off brushing his teeth to keep from interrupting her… personal time… well, maybe he was just being considerate.

Or maybe he was a monster. Oh god- he was such a monster.

He was fucked, thinking like this.

Of course, the obvious solution was to just go celibate for a while, perform some kind of penance, self-flagellation, whatever – he didn’t go to catholic school, that was more Evie’s domain. And thinking of Evie on her knees praying for forgiveness… Jesus fucking Christ.

No, celibacy wasn’t gonna happen. He’d never been good at real self-denial, delayed gratification – chastity - but he was happy to attempt a vigorous redirection of his lusts. A healthy combination of extra time spent boxing and extra time spent telling his father he was boxing in order to hit up his favorite friends with benefits. Only one or two of which had real emphasis on the ‘friend’. And, occasionally, when their father was gone for the night or the weekend or whatever shift or training outing he’d disappear for (practically a career marathon runner at this point, when he wasn't at work or on-call), and Evie was busy maintaining her excessive list of extracurricular activities, he could even smuggle someone into the house for a couple hours.

–--

Jacob was in possession of a veritable arsenal. A full tool kit. Yes, not everyone needed direct clitoral or prostate stimulation to achieve orgasm - he knew this, he did a surprising amount of research - but why on earth would he be content with someone capable of multiple orgasms only coming once? So he had a variety of trusty toys to aid him. He had varied collection of tastes. A _very_ varied collection of tastes. Tastes that, once funded by a combination of odd jobs and a willingness to do the stupid shit his friends offered to pay him to do, meant a varied collection of _things_ as well.

Alice was probably his favorite. She was easygoing, chill as fuck, and ridiculously horny almost constantly. So what if she joked about being completely incapable of love and dead inside– they got on well and they _got it on_ well. She was down for almost anything, and relatively encouraging of him learning new skills to try.

“Mmphmngphmm-”

He smirked at her, squirming and writhing and bucking her hips as best she could, his eyes studiously checking his ties on her skin, making sure they were holding but not pinching or constricting. It was a new thing, rope. The gag wasn’t new, though. Or the vibrator buzzing furiously against her clit.

“What was that, darling?” He cooed sarcastically, crooking his fingers into her, pressing at just the–

She shrieked (well, _sort of_ shrieked, it was a bit muffled around the gag), the noise falling to a begging moan as he pulled away again.

Fuck. Yeah, that’d do. With no more preamble he hooked his hands under her hips and dragged her to the edge of the bed, lining up and plunging into her, a guttural “-fuck-” caught in his throat.

* * *

Evie was home early – she didn’t have that much to do, but she desperately needed some distraction to keep herself out of Jacob’s reach or him out of hers. So maybe a visit to the local gym was a good idea. She used to go there – her sport activities were mainly aerobic ones with lots of running, but she needed muscles to improve her performance and as competitive as she was she just couldn’t let herself do a half-job. And it was quite time consuming and also tiring, something she was grateful for now.

\---

90 minutes later she stepped in the house, closing the main door and jogging back to her room, wanting nothing more than a relaxing shower. She felt the now familiar itching, how her brain’s darker side put the two and two together; hot water and a shower could mean…

Ugh, how come she couldn’t get rid of it now, make this urge go away? Her life would be much easier.

Once she was in her room, she carelessly dropped her bag – she’d unpack later, who cares – and stepped into the bathroom she shared with Jacob, more than ready to take that shower. She’d barely grabbed the bottom of her top, ready to take it off, when she heard it; some muffled noises coming from Jacob’s room. Some _female_ noises.

She sneaked closer to the door, which wasn’t properly closed – Jacob was probably in such a hurry, he’d just assumed it was closed all the way. Pushing the door a bit, carefully, to be able to see what was happening – she almost gasped in surprise.

It was a girl – Alice maybe? She’d only seen her bottom part in that picture – rope around her limbs, stopping her moving away from him. Gagged and desperate, almost on the edge of crying. And there was Jacob, pushing a… a vibrator against her, making her want more, but he clearly wasn’t willing to give it to her. Not yet.

It was just like that night, when he’d grabbed her, the same look was on his face; like he was owning her, like it or not. It was hot just the same, although seeing him with another girl also made something stir in her; close to anger, but not really, a bit different. She’d felt this feeling before, and recognized it instantly; it was jealousy.

Which was ridiculous, she shouldn’t feel jealous _or_ be turned on by this view. She should leave, and be ashamed, trying to erase this picture from her head. But she didn’t want to erase it. She didn’t feel ashamed at all – rather, she felt glued to the spot, unable to _not_ watch.

It didn’t really take long – God knows how long he’d tortured the poor girl by now – and she finally got what she wanted, screaming – well, unable to scream, but she did her best – shaken by her hitting orgasm. It was time to leave now, not risk getting discovered. Quickly she retreated to her room, then decided to stay in the kitchen and eat something instead of battling with the constant pressure to go back and watch what was happening.

* * *

 They sat in his bed for a bit after, zoning out; Alice hijacking his laptop to watch some reality show Jacob really didn’t care about, Jacob winding back up the rope he’d used, looking up new knots to try, giving her the requisite attention needed after a few good orgasms. She wasn’t as exhausted as he’d hoped. But then again, that was Alice. Always happy but never quite fulfilled. Not exactly a cuddler, either.

She sighed, rolling away from him, pulling a hoodie on over her bare chest. “Ugh. I should go. Got exams tomorrow in chem and calc.”

“Right. Okay.” He shrugged, moving to stand up.

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved a dismissive hand at his bare chest and pyjamas. “I can walk myself out.”

That was the downside of Alice: she kind of made him feel like a piece of meat.

Which was hot. Until it wasn’t.

“Alright. Text you later?”

She shrugged noncommittally, “Sure. There’s a band I found you might like, I’ll send you a link.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Nice and easy. So it was with Alice.

…Until two minutes later, when his phone buzzed.

* * *

She was finished with washing up the plate she’d used when Evie heard the steps on the stairs. So they were finished and she could use the bathroom finally. Stepping out of the kitchen to go back upstairs, Evie found herself face to face with the girl. She seemed to be surprised -- probably thought she and Jacob were alone in the house. Well they weren’t.

After a short greeting – a simple ‘hi’ was more than enough, she tried not to sound too cold, but she couldn’t be overly friendly either – the girl was out of the house.

* * *

_Oops. i think your sister hates me lol_

Jacob raised a brow at his screen, running a hand through slightly sweaty hair as he stood, loops of rope slung over his shoulder. What exactly was that supposed to mean? He’d tossed his phone on the bed, bringing their used toys into the bathroom to clean, when he heard Evie’s door click.

Shit. _That’s_ what that meant. He shifted onto one leg, closing her side of the bathroom with his foot, hurriedly doing his due diligence before bundling his things into a towel.

* * *

When she stepped into the bathroom he was already there at his sink, clearly worn out, in the absolute minimal clothing, wearing only the bottom half of his pjs, but beside that – perfectly naked. Hair ruffled and damp from the exhausting act he’d just performed... and God if it wasn’t a delicious picture to look at.

Dammit.

She noticed how he held a towel – and something was in that towel, something he clearly wished to keep out of sight.

Curiosity was there once again with a soft smile. “Hiding something?”

And the red rope carelessly thrown over his shoulder definitely grabbed her attention, like a cat concentrating on a hanging toy. Reaching out she took it, pulling it down off his shoulder, examining it carefully.

“Have you ever been tied up, or do you only love to do it to the girls?”

* * *

_“Hiding something?”_

Jacob shoved the small bundle under his arm. “No,” he lied, unamused. Christ, she was so… in the way. Just… constantly. From rarely noticing her before, now it was like he couldn’t escape her. He stiffened to keep from shying away from her touch, bristling as she examined the rope. Shit, should’ve left that in his room.

Watching her warily, he counted to keep his breaths steady. It helped that he’d gotten off, what, forty minutes ago? Made it a little easier to ignore her interest in rope that had last been so carefully cuffing Alice’s arms to the bed. …Barely easier.

_“Have you ever been tied up, or do you only love to do it to the girls?”_

His jaw tightened. She wasn’t drunk this time. The question, asked so coolly, felt almost like an attack. He straightened, taking advantage of those few inches he had over her to fix her with a hard look. “You really want an answer?”

* * *

He was so bad at lying – well, at lying to her. She knew him and, even if they were distant the last few years, she could still read him. It wasn’t that easy when they were kids, but Evie could spot an obvious lie.

Her attention was back on the rope, holding it, watching it. It was a simple nylon rope, available in any hardware store. Ugh, Evie was trying not to imagine how it would feel against her skin, being unable to move, tangled up in it…

Who was she kidding, she _was_ imagining it, in detail.

_“You really want an answer?”_

It made her look at him - he was still a distraction in _that_ outfit -  blue eyes sharp with curiosity and intelligence; was he joking?

“I was asking it wasn’t I?”

* * *

Yeah, sure, she was asking but why would she even-

The idea hit him like a spark, raising goosebumps on his skin as his eyes flashed. She couldn’t be. It was… no. That was crazy. His lips tipped into an incredulous sneer. “Are you…” He took a step closer, watching her eyes, watching for that same reaction he’d captured the night of the party. If he was wrong, fine, he’d be a little embarrassed. He kind of hoped he was wrong, in all honesty. That this turned out to be a joke they could both shrug off. But if not…

“...Are you _jealous_ , princess?”

He was lucky the length and diameter of the rope was minimal. His free hand skimmed up the outer edges of the loop, closing around its lengths, cinching it just below her open hand to capture her palm loosely.

* * *

He was trying to tower above her and get under her skin and honestly, he was succeeding with that. She let him, enjoying the closeness, and this close she could smell the girl on him clearly. It was weird. The familiar feeling of want was back, with a hint of jealousy as well, and she wanted nothing more than to leave her mark on him as a clear sign of whom he belonged to…

Damn, this was getting worse and worse. She didn’t _own_ him, what made her think that? But it was there, strongly, such a primal instinct, so deep and so raw, it almost scared her.

_“…Are you jealous, princess?”_

He was teasing now, testing her. It wasn’t like normal sibling teasing, no, this time it was different; he was mocking her, poking her, trying to make her come out of her hiding spot, putting such a pressure on her.

“No,” she answered, short and strict, maybe a bit too fast, too fast to hide the obvious lie. Because, yes, she was, she knew that; and apparently Jacob also knew that.

He pressed the rope against her skin; not too much, but it still made her feel the rope and his grip on it as well, the sensation almost burning her skin. Her brain was thinking funny things, like urging her to beg him to tie her up and do whatever he wanted with her.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Evie didn’t need to be loud, or even use her normal conversational voice; it came out more like a whisper, still curious, still wanting to know more about him. And maybe she clung to the question like a lifeboat, not really letting herself get lost too much, even if she was barely holding out.

* * *

...She was. She most definitely was.

His head felt tight, and he briefly wondered if maybe he was dreaming, as his eyes flicked over her face, seeking out her tells. His voice was low, a smooth murmur with a slightly irritated edge. “It’s my rope. I do the tying.” Which was true. But also new. It was a skill he was in the midst of learning. One day he’d be able to do all the pretty stuff, for now he knew how to make cuffs and that was pretty much all he could do sans-reference. And in all honesty, he preferred the nice leather cuffs in his collection -- they were a bitch to purchase, but he could verify they were comfy as hell.

“Now I’ll have it back, if you please.” He slipped his hand down, loosening the rope’s hold on her, and hooked his own wrist through to pull it back toward himself again.

* * *

_“It’s my rope. I do the tying.”_

She had to swallow at that, as a wave of heat hit her and went down right to her hips.

As he was about to step away from her again she didn’t really think of her actions, just did them. Honestly, Evie had no idea how long she could keep up with this cat-and-mouse game – enduring the constant torture of having him this close, each of them always taking one step forwards or two steps back, coming close before one of them inevitably chickened out. Yes, it was twisted. More than twisted. But she wanted it _so fucking badly_.

As the rope let her go and she had some freedom to move, she reached forward instead of backward as he expected, sliding the rope up his arm and tightening it, leaving a white mark as the rope pressed into his skin thanks to her tight grip.

_“I do the tying.”_

Always so confident, he sounded like such a douchebag. And somehow she kind of liked that, always loved to compete with him, be it a simple game, school, or… this. Pushing their limits - her limits, his limits… the line started to get dangerously blurry.

“What if I don’t want to give it back?”

_What if I don’t want you to leave?_

* * *

His eyebrows raised with amused incredulity at the boldness of her action. Goody-two-shoes Evie thinking she was so tough… She wanted to play chicken? He could play chicken. For someone so impulsive, Jacob could have a shocking amount of self-control when he set his mind to it.

He ignored the rope tightening on his arm, didn’t bother trying to pull himself out of its tangle, instead raising his hand toward her. He smirked, remembering the night in the car, and twirled a piece of her hair around his finger. “And what _do_ you want, exactly?”

* * *

She felt like he was playing with her, and it wasn’t exactly a difficult task, since Evie had no idea what she was doing.

She only knew one thing; she didn’t want this moment to end.

_Please don’t leave. Just… don’t leave, whatever happens after that. Just stay, please…_

It kept repeating over and over in her head so much, after a point it was easy to say it out loud.

“Please… don’t leave.” Was she begging? Could this be considered begging? Or just a simple request? Would she humiliate herself so much she almost begged for his presence? Did she sound needy? Did she even care if she did?

_Don’t leave me here._

* * *

Power was a heady heady thing, and her words gave it all to him. He drew in a breath, feeling the slight excited flush on his skin, the way his pupils dilated at that word. _Please_. It made him want to do very very bad things. He wanted to hear that word again. Followed by so many others. His eyes dropped to her mouth, images flashing through his head of all the things she could beg for with those perfect pink lips.

When had he moved closer? His fingers slowly slipped past her ear, sinking luxuriously into her hair, rough against her scalp, pinky brushing the nape of her neck. He’d just started to tighten his grip, to pull her head back, tilt her face up towards his, when the front door slammed.

 _Shit_.

His heart shot into his throat, fist tightening hard in her hair for a moment before he released her, stepping back. The glare he shot her was powerful, but not angry. Not angry at her, at least. For a second his mouth opened, as if to make a threat, or a promise (or were those two one in the same?), but eyes flicked to the door at the distant call of _“Evie?”_ from downstairs. There was a determined edge to his smirk as he slipped back into his room, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

He was finally touching her more and more and she almost purred contentedly at the feeling, but she wanted more at the same time. She couldn’t really do anything but let him slowly grip her hair and pull her head back, her neck following the movement as her muscles stretched and her skin showed itself to him.

Evie was sure he could feel her rushing pulse now, steadily drumming against hot skin.

She couldn’t help the soft noise, a sigh or a whimper, she wasn’t really sure which one it was. Fuck, he was torturing her and he loved every moment of it.

It was almost perfect. Almost, because the front door closed loudly - signaling Ethan was home and had no idea what was happening above his head - ruining everything. Jacob’s grip became a painful one for a moment, then instantly he let her go, stepped away from her. It looked like he wanted to tell her something, but he changed his mind.

Ethan called for her – and only for her, not a big surprise – and that was it, it was totally over, and she’d rarely felt this frustrated before, wanted to scream at their father to get the fuck out of the house, but even if she could do that, the moment was ultimately over.

“Coming!” she shouted back instead, not really wanting to deal with him right now. The last thing she saw of Jacob was that cocky smirk and then he was back in his room, leaving Evie behind to slip back into her good girl role.

\---

Sleep didn’t come easily that night; she kept tossing and turning. Her body was tired and wanted nothing more than a good, long and relaxing sleep, but her brain was on fire. She forced herself to close her eyes and calm her breathing - it usually helped to finally fall asleep - but now she saw very vivid flashbacks of what had happened that afternoon. It couldn’t have been more than what, five minutes? But that was more than enough to keep her up for the night.

At this point she wasn’t so sure if she was the only one who was twisted. Maybe Jacob was, too. That smile and the way he looked at her… the way he treated her… It couldn’t be only one-sided. Or maybe she was seeing things. But no, she didn’t really think she was.

She turned onto her back with an irritated groan. Fuck it, maybe she should just… enjoy the ride and not overthink it. She was usually overthinking everything. But how she could not?

This?

This would be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know I said I'd slow down but, y'know what? _I lied._ This story is just... oof. That good trash. Yum yum trash ship, I love it. Hopefully y'all love it, too. Kudos, bookmarks, comments are all highly appreciated.  
> \- aFOF
> 
> Just a bit xD Well, we don't even regret it and if you have any thoughts about the thing we are currently doing, please share :D - UM


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigh* So... we may have fallen into that typical writing problem where you do too much research cause you want to pick something true to your interpretation of a characters. In other words, an unnamed movie very quickly became a specific movie, which I then watched, and wrote while watching, because Authentic Reactions. -.- (Regardless; it's a good movie, and definitely feels like something my interpretation of Jacob would find profound.) Anyway, enjoy a short interlude XD  
> -aFOF
> 
> And what was I doing meanwhile? Sleeping. - UM

The following week was extremely hard for her. Her studies were always challenging, but it was twice as hard when she was unable to concentrate on them. She tried her best though. She felt like shit at the end of the week, and was extremely thankful for the upcoming weekend.

Friday evening she’d barely stepped into the kitchen when she almost collapsed onto a chair, wrinkled skirt riding up her thighs. She needed to take a shower, switch into something more comfortable – maybe straight to her sleeping attire; oversized shirt and panties and a warm pair of socks. Yes, it sounded magical.

All she needed was a hot cup of tea right now and some snacks for later - sweet, and salty as well (but more sweet than salty) - and Netflix. And then sleep. For three days in a row. She didn’t wish to be woken up until Monday.

All she needed to do was get back on her feet and make that cup of tea.

It seemed like the hardest thing she’d ever done.

In the end she collected herself and stood up, turning around to get a mug out of the cupboard, and put on the kettle, rummaging for the tea bags – Jacob always pushed them behind everything else, the prick. She swore he did it just to fuck with her – Evie was more of a tea addict than him, so it had to be the only reason. She stood on tiptoes to reach the upper shelf, cursing. This was way too much energy spent for a fucking warm drink. She could get a chair to stand on, but nah.

* * *

She was doing a number on him. She didn’t mean to, and it really wasn’t her fault, but it was like his imagination had latched on to that _please don’t leave_ and taken it entirely too much to heart. Every time he closed his eyes it was Evie. He was so fucked in the head.

Jacob was already aware of a few slightly sadistic tendencies, but now he realized some part of him must be a masochist as well, wanting something so utterly unattainable. Worse still, he teased himself with it, playing with the idea, letting it blossom in his head into things that physically _ached_ they hurt so good. The guilt was a grimly accepted side effect. As long as he didn’t act on it, he told himself, as long as it stayed just images in his head, it was fine.

But god, that uniform.

It wasn’t even like she could help it, it just… _did it_ for him. Skirts were good -- knee socks, fantastic; thigh high stockings with that gap of bare skin at the top? So inviting.

The first day after their little encounter, he’d been telling himself to stop it.

But then… but then he figured… well, there were plenty of things that could happen that weren’t _really_ acting on it.

He’d started practicing his knots at the kitchen table. They were innocent enough on their own, after all, even if it earned him some odd looks from their father when he showed up in the evening.

Then he’d taken to scrolling through his gallery openly while watching tv, angling it maybe a bit too much into his sister’s view.

He’d been so bold as to take a call from Alice on speaker, casually nudging the bathroom door wider before answering, waiting for Evie to take notice mid-call, once things had tipped rather drastically toward the topic of Alice’s soaked knickers, and then shooting her a smirk as he shut the door on her.

He’d taken a particular thrill in forcing her to say thank you after he’d passed her the butter dish one morning, grabbing hold of her wrist until the words had finally passed her lips. _Those lips._

So finding her in the kitchen, up on tip-toes, that tantalizing expanse of bare thigh below her hemline… He watched her struggle for a moment, well aware that he probably shouldn’t enjoy the sight quite so much. But the alternative… Well, the alternative was to _help_ , wasn’t it? A wicked gleam came into his eye. He’d been checking his messages, but quickly slipped his phone away into his jeans pocket, managing to step almost silently up behind her.

“Need a boost?” He took a firm grasp on her waist with both hands, bracing his feet with one knee against the cupboards between her legs as he lifted her up.

* * *

She only noticed him once he was already behind her, voice in her ear, hands on her waist and _damn._ Lifted in the air she was able to see and get what she was after, victoriously smiling at the tea. Once she was standing on the floor again, she turned around to face him.

“Thanks,” was all she said to him before the need to touch him hit her hard. But she kinda expected it by this point – even noticed how the feeling changed, from the primal need to let him use her to the craving for sweet moments like a hug or cuddle. Now was the latter; she would love to curl around him and just be, enjoying his warmth and the rhythm of his breathing.

The water was boiling and the noise demanded her attention, so she turned the kettle off and began preparing her tea. “Any plans for today?” she asked perfectly casually, praising herself mentally for her composure. “Because if not-” She shook her bag of sweets. “-I have snacks and movies if you wanna join.”

It was an innocent invitation – as innocent it could be, after now having had _two_ overly abnormal moments that had resulted in a necessary change of her panties. Plus the days after, when he’d been clearly teasing her.

* * *

Jesus. Okay, he hadn’t expected _that_ look to do something for him. If she’d been all flustered and overwhelmed it would’ve ground his gears, yeah, but that cute little smile? That tiny touch of playfulness? He immediately stepped away, letting her return to her task, the smirk wiped clean off his face.

What the fuck was he doing? This was _Evie_. Not some slag hitting him up for a quick fuck. The guilt bubbled up in him quickly, making him blink and look away. “I, uh. Had plans,” he muttered, taking another step back.

God, it was like that moment after orgasm when he realized how absolutely fucked it was to be thinking of -- of _that_. She was so innocent. And all he’d wanted to do was tarnish that innocence. Fucking hell, there was-- something was wrong with him, alright. So many things.

* * *

She was disappointed. She’d really hoped she might have a moment of peace with him, but he was backing out of it – like what, just because she wasn’t one of the girls who piqued his interest meant she just didn’t matter? It was a choking thought.

“What, another phone sex appointment with Alice?”

Her question wasn’t totally free from bitterness. She’d really hoped… Well. It wasn’t unexpected, at least, if he did have some girl to meet. Turning around, she leaned against the counter, watching him a bit before she spoke again.

“I won’t bite, I promise. Please?”

* * *

_“What, another phone sex appointment with Alice?”_

_I mean, Jen said she wanted to try DP so I was actually gonna drive-_

“No.”

It wasn’t really a lie. And hearing Evie talk about sex was still… bizarre.

Shit, now he felt guilty for ditching Evie, too.

...Jen could wait. She was just as capable of using toys as he was. So she’d be short a cock: whatever.

_“I won’t bite, I promise. Please?”_

_But what if I_ want _you to bite-_

_Fuck, Jacob, stop it. Think with something other than your dick for once._

The thoughts ricocheted back and forth in his head. She looked so hopeful. He let out a breath.  “...Yeah, alright,” he relented.

* * *

A bright smile appeared on her face, her mood instantly a bit lighter and less lonely. His face didn’t really mirror the same reaction, so she playfully added, “Oh, don’t be too sad; if you would prefer the biting, you just have to _ask_.”

Picking her tea up, she tossed the bag of sweets toward him. “I’ll go and take a quick shower and change – you can pick the movie, anything you want.”

Maybe she shouldn’t let him pick – she briefly wondered if he would pick some hard stuff, like porn, just to fuck with her – but she was too cheerful to actually worry about his games (the ones he’d been using to torture her over the past week). Besides… she wasn’t exactly innocent either.

* * *

_“Oh, don’t be too sad, if you would prefer the biting, you just have to_ ask _.”_

Jacob blinked. This was- wait - okay, but this was _Evie_. This was _Evie_ saying this. This was Evie… flirting with him? He watched her go, practically dumbfounded.

Right. Well.

Once out of his sight, the spell was slightly broken. He set his mind to picking out a movie-- something Evie would like. What did Evie like? He pulled a face. He could suffer through some blockbuster chick flick if that was what she wanted, if he had to, but god that would be boring. What about-- she was nerd. Maybe a documentary? If he could find one that didn’t put him to sleep.

He’d settled himself down on the couch, stealing the corner seat so he could get the best view - and the good blanket - and began scrolling through their family accounts.

* * *

Once she was in the bathroom, she hurried to get out of her school clothes and put everything in the laundry (mentally noting that she needed to load the washing machine later), and scrubbed herself clean under the hot water, already feeling way better and refreshed. Stepping out of the shower, she was wondering if she really should wear the outfit she’d considered in the kitchen. But then she let it go with a shrug; she was at home, she could wear anything she wanted to. The gray shirt hid her body, so it wasn’t inappropriate at all, it was just a bit too short, ending right under her butt, showing a bit of her simple black kickers – not like she didn’t have fancier pieces – not overly fancy – but these ones were for sleeping and being comfortable. And beyond those, nothing; just long legs and a warm and fluffy pair of socks (she was crazy over them, had several pairs). She loosely braided her hair. She hated how it got everywhere – honestly, she was seriously thinking about cutting it short sometime, but couldn’t really decide just yet. Maybe next month. That done, she was ready; sweets and her brother and a couch, hmmmmm… Sounded perfect.

Just perfect.

* * *

It took him… well, it took a while, actually. He wanted to find something good, something they’d both like -- something that could maybe let him think about something other than Evie for a bit. He’d just settled on a movie when he heard her coming down the stairs again.

“You seen this one ye--t?” He very nearly choked on his words as she came around the front of the couch. Legs. Those were… those were legs. He liked legs. He would very much like those legs wrapped around--

He pointedly turned his attention back to the screen. Nope. Not going there. This was sibling bonding night. _Siblings_. He was going to be responsible and watch the goddamn movie.

* * *

“ _20,000 Days on Earth?_ No, not yet.” It was some kind of documentary about Nick Cave, how he saw the world. Very Jacob; she liked it. Way better than him enduring some silly movie he thought she liked just to make her happy. Evie rather preferred this scenario.

As he hit the play, she pulled her legs up and leaned a bit against him. She couldn’t help but feel wholly content; almost like a purring cat. The movie was interesting enough to keep her up through the first half of it, even chatting a bit with her brother over certain stories, but the warmth radiating from him, his scent all around her, and her sheer exhaustion all added up together, making her snuggle closer, touching him a bit more. She was finally at peace. Such a glorious feeling... Why couldn’t it be like this all the time? Why couldn’t she feel this balanced, this … good? Why did she just…

The noises faded, her thoughts half-finished as Evie slowly turned off, drifting away, slipping into the realm of dreams.

* * *

The movie was good. Like… really interesting, actually. Weird and good. Deep? But like… _interesting_. Interesting enough that - after that initial surprise as Evie snuggled up against him - he gave it his full attention. He shifted to get more comfortable, looping his arm around her, letting his hand rest on her hip, fingers circling idly, or tapping along to the ambient score or the soundtrack, and brow furrowed with concentration.

There were some moments. Moments where topics turned toward things that made him think of Evie. And then… some moments that made him think about their father. And their mother. It hit his philosophical side in a real way. Half philosophy and half biography, another half cobbled in that was the poetry of former junkies. Good shit. Got his brain working. The music wasn’t too bad, either. Some lyrics or stories that had him laughing at their bizarreness with Evie. And then some monologues, some riffs that just hit right in the core of his chest.

There was that building moment, the screen a vintage-themed echo of his own mind, when he was far too aware of Evie’s shirt riding up her thighs, of the tantalizing peek of skin, inches from his fingertips.

He realized she’d fallen asleep when a sudden burst of noise made her startle to restlessness again. He laughed softly, turned down the volume, let her be sleepily confused about the sudden noise. She settled down again, curling even further into him, hiding her face from the television, pressing it to his chest. He smirked, covered her head with a pillow half jokingly, but more to keep from waking her again.  

When it was all over, he couldn’t stop thinking of acting on bad ideas, and of truths. The intersection of imagination and reality…

He glanced at Evie.

She was asleep.

...Yeah.

It was… it was probably better that way.

Carefully maneuvering out from under her, he set about cleaning up their snacks, putting away the dishes, more trying to kill time until she woke up than really trying to be helpful. But he was, in the end. She was passed out on the couch in front of a dead tv. He watched for a moment. Waited. Listened. And with a sigh he hoisted her into his arms and made the trek upstairs to tuck her in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Occasionally things verge into the fluffy, okay? It just happens. ><  
> So... What do you think? Also, anyone else see this movie/trailer and agree teen Jacob would think maybe way too much about it?  
> \- aFOF
> 
> Fluff is good, I adore fluff, FLUFF! :D I think we both agree on mixing hardcore stuff and fluff together, kinda creating this strange mixture, what we upload over here - UM


	6. Chapter 6

It was dark outside when she woke up, looking around. Her last memory was the movie and the couch and Jacob… And now she was in her bed. He must have tucked her in. Sitting up, she yawned and stretched before slowly climbing out of the sheets. Her stomach rumbled, wanting food-- and now.

She quickly padded down to the kitchen to have something edible, and it was hard to not notice how everything was… right where it should be. Evie usually took care of the household (irritatingly, as the only girl). She couldn’t really help it. Ethan was so rarely around, and had split the chores between them when they were smaller, but Jacob never seemed to care enough about cleanliness or their father’s rules to bother, and Evie gradually became the one doing everything around the house. Cleaning, washing, cooking – she had to do it herself, if she wanted to eat and have a clean house. But this time someone had been faster – and it couldn’t have been their father.

Opening the fridge, Evie made a quick sandwich to make her body happy and silent, washed up, and padded back to her room. She should say thanks to him. Yes, she should. It was nice of him; tucking her in, doing some chores.

Silently she walked through the bathroom toward his connecting door, pushing it in a bit. No female sounds came from inside, so that was a good sign. Opening the door a bit more to see him, and so he might be able to see her, she leaned against the frame, her figure relaxed, a soft smile on her face.

“You must be really bored if you minded the chores.” She giggled a bit, softly. “But I am thankful for it, even if you didn’t really enjoy the act itself.”

It was a bit weird, coming from him; he usually was out and partying - and she now knew very well he went because of the pleasure he gained there - and honestly, after his reluctance to stay with her, she kinda expected he wouldn’t stay in the house and would instead go out, just like always. Instead, Jacob had cleaned up after both of them.

“Although I have to ask if you feel okay, because I thought I could chase you around the house with a sponge and you’d rather die than take it.”

* * *

Jacob slipped his headphones from his ears at the sound of a voice, turning in his desk chair.

She still wasn’t wearing pants. He couldn’t have been looking for more than a second or two, but he’d definitely stared for a moment before his gaze shot back to her face. What had she--? Oh. His smile was wry, not quite sheepish. “Yeah, well. You were asleep,” he shrugged, glancing back to his computer, jiggling his mouse pointlessly. If he kept looking at her he’d stare again. Legs that went on for days, no bra - fuck, why did his brain go these places?

He’d stayed in. Even after she’d fallen asleep, and he could’ve taken advantage of a solid few hours of a Friday night, he’d stayed. Actually, he’d looked up more music by the documentary guy. Weird stuff, but he didn’t mind it. And he thought about the movie a lot. And about acting on bad ideas.

Evie was probably about the _worst_ idea he could have.

* * *

She walked in, coming up next to him and reached out. She didn’t really think it over, just did it - fingers landing in his brown hair, slowly running through it.

“That was awfully nice of you,” she started gently, then pulled at his hair a bit playfully. “Did I do something good?”

* * *

Even he hadn’t expected the groan working its way up his throat -- quickly shortened to a grunt before he could give himself away any further, brow creasing into a scowl. Hair pulling… it was a Thing. One of the few Things that he liked having done to him about as much as he liked doing it to others. She had to know this was a bad idea. He shot her an irritated look, his eyes flicking down over her half-clothed form before he quickly looked away again. She was testing his patience. She knew he was notoriously bad with patience, right?

“Evie…” His voice was a low warning. “...What do you think you’re doing?” Maybe if he just addressed it-

His imagination was already running wild. Technicolor and sensational, he half hoped things would get worse before they got better. But things would be a hell of a lot easier if she just stopped.

* * *

Oh she loved that voice. That tone could do things to her, she’d quickly realized – even when it happened for the first time. She loved it. There was something in his tone. Something dangerous she wanted to feel on her skin…

“What am I doing? Am I not allowed to touch you?”

While his voice was low and almost a growl, hers was playfully teasing. This time she was poking _him_ , not the other way around - a hand still in his hair, keeping her grip tight. Not too tight, just barely pulling, far from causing serious pain.

* * *

He grit his teeth, voice hard-edged and tense in his seat as he spoke. “That depends…” His mouth had gone dry, too aware that his next words could be a horrible mistake. His voice was quiet but intense. “Are you touching me like a sister? Or a friend? Or…” His fingers flexed on the arms of his chair as he slowly turned his eyes to hers, freshly roiling with something searing hot. “ _...Or are you being a ruthless little tease?_ ”

He held his breath. Part of him hoped she’d laugh it off, let it go, just go to sleep and leave it alone. But a bigger part of him wanted her right here, right now, hungry and desperate and so _very_ wrong.

* * *

A huge grin appeared on her face, looking like the cat who’d swallowed the canary.

“Depends what you want me to be. A sister, a friend, or a ‘ruthless little tease’?”

It was a very odd situation, but she just... didn’t care about that. Only cared how it made her feel, how _he_ made her feel. It had scared her at first, that night in the car - how powerful this feeling was, how primal, how _abnormal_ \- and she knew she shouldn’t enjoy it this much. But just like wanting more sweets, even knowing that it would do her no good, she wanted more of this, of him, not really minding how she _should_ feel or not feel, how normal it was or not. She was big enough to decide what she wanted to do. Besides: no one had to know what she did behind closed doors.

She tightened her grip. “What’s your preference?”

* * *

It was like a seal being broken - he sucked in a low hiss as he breathed again, heavily now, watching her with a sort of ferocity he usually reserved for fighting or fucking. He caught her gaze and held it - refused to let it go - as his hand lifted to close on her wrist, tightening as he stood. Harder and harder he pressed at her tendons, backing her up towards the wall, until she finally released her grip, then he loosened his. Grabbing her other wrist as well, he pinned her against the wall, pressing into her space, shifting to push his thigh between her legs - every move done slowly. Slow enough to let her leave. God, she should really leave.

Words were hard.

No, sorry -- _he_ was hard. Words were difficult.

He wanted to warn her, to ask her if this was okay, but that would put words to what they might do and… and that was something he wasn’t sure he could face. Made worse by how perversely appealing it all felt right now. But someone had to be responsible. And, oddly enough, he wasn’t sure Evie could.

“I think we both know the answer to that.” He spoke quietly, with a firm confidence to his words, his sentiment echoed as he shifted his leg against her again. Fuck, his heart was racing. He leaned down, speaking the command into her ear. “Tell me what you want.” He needed to know. Needed to hear it from her.

* * *

It was so sudden. And intense. _Very_ intense. Way too much and not quite enough at the same time. He was everywhere around her and that pressure was back, making her whimper already. _Fuck yes._

Behind her was the hard surface of the solid wall, and he was pressing against her from the front -- differently solid and hard, but oh he was definitely hard.

The temperature in the room suddenly jumped.

_“Tell me what you want.”_

It was hard to put into words. What she wanted? _Everything_. Was she prepared for that everything? Not sure, but she still wanted it. She opened her mouth to answer, but her voice failed her, unable to form a single word. What should she tell him? How she could describe the last few weeks – or even _years_ – of wanting and being unsure about how sane she was for her wanting? Her moral questions? Her fear, hope, struggle?

Still, the urge to grab this opportunity was too much, and she just had to fulfill his order.

“Everything, you can offer.”

 _But mostly you_. She just… wanted to take it all.

* * *

She was blushing -- and fuck, she was so cute when she blushed. He pressed his forehead against the wall beside her head, groaning low and deep at her admission. His lips went to her ear, nose in her hair, taking in that glorious scent of her. “ _Fuck,_ Evie,” his words buzzed against her skin, teeth nipping at her ear briefly before he nuzzled his way down her neck. “You have no idea.”

His grip on her wrists tightened, rolling his hips against her, tongue flicking out to taste the skin at the juncture of neck and shoulder.

She was lying, of course. Even if she didn’t know it. Everyone had their limits. But that she wanted him enough - _trusted_ him enough - to put herself - so pliable, so willing - into his hands was…

Teeth dragged along her skin.

They’d need to talk about this. They’d need to think things through, to figure out what _exactly_ she wanted. Jesus, and to make her say it… to hear every sordid detail of her fantasies…

But first.

He clamped his mouth down on her, licking and biting and sucking and _marking_ her - proving his victory, grinding his thigh against her heat, seeking out those little hits of the drug that was her pleasure.

* * *

She was lost. So fucking lost; something she’d tried to avoid for a while, because Evie knew if she let the control out of her hands, there would be no turning back, no retreat. But she didn’t care about that anymore - right now, she didn’t care about anything but him, finally touching her, finally… _yes_ …

She had no idea? Oh, Evie was _always_ willing to learn.

But right now she merely gasped, feeling the pressure growing as he moved, teasing her first and then, when he truly bit her, she couldn’t keep the moan in. That would definitely leave a mark, but who cared? She’d cover it up with something later – not like she truly had time to think about that, not while she was a shivering mess under him, making desperate noises and already horribly wet for him.

* * *

Yes. Yes, more, he wanted so much more. Satisfied he’d made his mark, he trailed his mouth up her throat, nipping at her jaw more to taste than to tease, pausing as his eyes darted over her face - that perfect dusting of freckles, those eyes so clear and so full of _want_ , and those lips-- god, those lips. Those were his now. _Now_ , now-- capturing her mouth forcefully, chest rumbling with something round and resonant that was almost a purr, before pulling back just slightly, slowing down even as it pained him to do so - _don’t scare her, Jesus fucking Christ don’t scare her away_. This wasn’t like his other partners, this was _Evie_ ; he couldn’t just take what he wanted, even if he wanted to - and he _wanted_ to, so badly.

Fingers slipped down from her wrists, skimming her skin, gliding over her shirt - purposefully just barely brushing against the hard nubs poking through the fabric. One hand splayed against her waist, his thumb rubbing circles as the other ran a teasing touch down her neck, hooking in the top of her shirt and popping the first button open.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against her lips, parting the fabric slowly, moving down to the next button.

* * *

After the almost painful bite the sweet kisses were such a contrast – she didn’t really think he could fuck with her brain even more, but she’d clearly underestimated him – or herself. There was still so much torture to come, and she would endure it all, and gladly.

Jacob quickly changed from soft to demanding, _owning_ her, wanting what was now his.

She’d once shared a kiss with some guy from another school – it was a short lived thing, nothing serious. Evie had enjoyed that he didn’t really know her, only the part she showed to him, and he liked her. It quickly got boring, and they just stopped meeting. But this was totally different; definitely not boring, or like anything she’d ever experienced. She was more than willing and welcoming, not even minding how he was now above her and clearly had control over her – she usually _hated_ if anyone tried to tell her what to do – but now she really couldn’t get enough of it.

When her wrists were free from his grip, the delicate hands immediately found the massive body practically on her, touching him finally, fulfilling this wish that had tortured her for so long. Damn, Evie had _dreamed_ about this, touching him whenever and wherever she wanted to. Now she could explore the curve of his neck and shoulder, caressing gently or scratching him a bit, gripping the material of his shirt and never letting go. God, it was delicious, like removing a huge weight from her shoulders and finally breathing freely.

But Jacob also touched _her_ , overstimulating her senses, making her catch her breath. Damn, he was _very_ good at this – she was nothing more than his puppet now - a plaything - and she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t just do everything he asked of her.

 _“Tell me to stop,”_ was all he said to her, and she felt how her shirt loosened a bit as he undid the first button, clearly planning to keep going – if she didn’t stop him. But... she couldn’t, just couldn’t…

“I can’t…” she panted weakly, unable to resist his draw anymore.

* * *

He stopped anyway, taking his hands off of her, pressing them instead into her shoulders to keep her from following as he took a step back, frowning. “Evie.” His voice was scolding, but he quickly gentled it, softened his expression, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her face in his hand.

“Evie,” he started again, softer. “This is important.” He combed his fingers through her hair, resisting the urge to take grip. “I’m not saying I _want_ to stop.” The hand still on her shoulder gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I’m saying I _will_ stop.” His eyes flicked between hers, looking for recognition of what he was telling her. “You tell me to stop and I stop.”

* * *

Something had changed – in one moment everything was all heat, and they didn’t care about anything, only each other, and in the next, he was serious and retreating. She looked up at him confused, wondering if he was having second thoughts.

Did he… did he regret it? Oh God, did she make a mistake?

He hated her. He _definitely_ hated her-- who would want such a sick, fucked up sister…

The way he said her name already had her creating the worst case scenarios: Jacob turning away from her, feeling disgusted, unable to even look at her…

Then he softened up, but was still so serious. _‘We need to stop.’_ That’s what she expected to hear.

She was badly mistaken. Jacob instead seemed to be worried for her well-being – like _he_ was the one who’d pushed them into this and not her – not wanting to hurt her or do something she wouldn’t like. Why would he think _she_ had second thoughts?

Looking back at him, thinking about his words...

She was able to walk away any time she wanted. Or make him stop if she didn’t like something. Not like Evie planned to ask him to leave her alone, but it made her wonder; what could he do to her? The idea was interesting and scary at the same time… the perfect mixture to pique her curiosity and make her want to know more about it.

A soft smile slowly appeared on her reddening lips, giving him her answer. “Okay. If I want you to stop, I’ll say so. But I didn’t do it yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm yes... Well...  
> Anyway, consent is hot, yay. XD  
> For real though, always curious to know others' thoughts re: keeping consent sexy. Also, curious to know how you found the fic. A specific tag? Just looking for the ship? Let us know! Please leave a comment, they're always appreciated ^^  
> \- aFOF


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Enjoy... even more smut! :D  
> \- aFOF
> 
> This piece has 376 hits... our other work what we did together - the fluffy daemon one - has 106 hits. I mean what the hell??? XD We will all burn in fire xD - UM

_“Okay. If I want you to stop, I’ll say so. But I didn’t do it yet.”_

If he were a little more responsible he would’ve pushed the issue. Would’ve made her say it, just to get her used to telling him no. But, then again, if he were at all more responsible this never would’ve been happening in the first place.

The soft concern on his lips very quickly curled into something more playful, more wicked. “No…” He hummed his agreement, finally giving in to the urge to sink his grip against her scalp, ducking his face against hers, once more pressing his body towards her as his lips brushed over her jaw. “No you didn’t.” The hand that had been pushing her away lessened its pressure, his fingers playing with the collar of her shirt again, thumb stroking down to the next button and then back up, down and up again, teasing, making no move to actually unfasten it.

“But if you don’t want me to stop…” he murmured, kissing just below her ear, then her cheek, then ghosting over her lips in favor of the other side of her neck. He grinned as he tempted her, bringing his lips back over hers but holding her hair firmly to keep her from coming forward to meet his kiss. When he spoke the movement brushed his lips against hers slightly, his words husky. “…Then you must want something else.”

* * *

He was gripping her again, pulling her hair, and it must’ve been a thing for her – she had read that there were almost no limits to sexual activities; if she liked the thing and he also liked the thing, they were totally good to go. Normal. Well… Would that make this normal if both of them wanted it, despite being twins? They’d both made the decision; she wasn’t forced into it, and no one could force Jacob to do something he didn’t want to…

Her focus quickly returned to him, his finger tugging a little tighter, and the soft whimpering was back – more like a contented sigh. He was teasing her, playing with her, pushing her to the edge and keeping her there, but barely letting her touch him – and she wanted nothing more than to finally enjoy him, but still got so little of him; it was torturous. And Jacob knew that, clearly.

But she was stubborn, something Evie had always had in common with her brother – they both had strong personalities. Different, but similar enough to cause some fighting between them when they were little, chasing each other around the house to wrestle over every he said/she said situation, like lion cubs, hissing and biting. As they grew older the differences helped them drift away from one another, just to chase her back into his arms now, feeling the irresistible pull. And her stubbornness now refused to allow her to give in for something as small as a little teasing. Oh no, she could endure much more.

_“…Then you must want something else.”_

His words were hot against her lips, but he refused to kiss her again. Fingers played on her skin with the promise of finally continuing their job on her buttons, and her brain did the rest, imagining how he’d grip her and devour her, mark her again and again and do filthy filthy things with her. But he clearly didn’t intend to, at least not yet.

But Jacob was also curious about _her_ intentions, very curious. It made her giggle, realizing he was as much in the dark as she was, that this territory was still unfamiliar to him and he had no clue what she really wanted – or he just wanted to hear it from her. Badly. He had to work for it, though.

“Probably, yes,” she answered shortly, not telling him much, wanting to see how he’d react when she was not the obedient little girl others expected from her, when she showed she could push back. He had to know that; they grew up together.

* * *

The hand on her collar traced a teasing touch up her neck to cup her chin as his thigh took its place between her legs again. “Use your words Evie,” he chided teasingly, running his thumb over her lips as he smirked. “I intend to use this mouth a lot-” the words were a dark promise, “-but you need to tell me what you want.”

He wanted to hear her. Wanted to watch her blush as she detailed every perverse urge for him. God, he wanted to know every twisted secret in her head. They were twins, after all, two sides of the same coin. Surely she must share some of his particular tastes. She’d hinted toward as much already. Fuck, he should not be as into this as he was - but the fact that he _was_ only seemed to make it better. Words stuck on the tip of his tongue, holding back from speaking them, knowing he shouldn’t, not until he knew it wouldn’t go horribly wrong. Twisted, depraved, his erotic imagination fed on the taboo nature of it, wanting to tease to the nature of their relationship but he wouldn’t. Not yet. He didn’t want to ruin this.

* * *

“I need to beg to you to finally ruin me?” she asked him, not really minding her words. She was maybe a bit irritated, but she slowly started to understand the main concept -- or she thought she did; instead of letting him to do whatever he wanted with her on his own, she was the one who dictated how things were going. And for that she really needed to share what she wanted – in detail.

The vivid red colour quickly developed on her cheeks as she realized she couldn’t really avoid it, no matter how badly she wanted to, afraid he would… well… he’d change his opinion about her for the worse. Even if the idea seemed stupid in this situation.

Besides, Jacob had plenty of experience and she… just didn’t. At all. How she could describe what she wanted – even if Evie always considered herself as a well-informed, educated person – if she didn’t even know the things she wanted were valid, and not some overly stupid or horrible thing? It was one thing to read about it, but actually telling such things to someone she liked and considered important was kind of… scary.

She _did_ trust him; without question. But Evie didn’t want to make a complete fool of herself in front of him – or anyone, but especially him – around such a topic like this. But if she was too scared to tell him, then what was the point?

Okay, okay, she could do this. It wasn’t worse than a test. Or a competition. _Just… go for it. Don’t over-stress it… oh wait, already over-stressing it._

She tried to collect her thoughts and focus. She cleared her throat, which was now uncomfortably dry. What did she want? Well, to keep going, obviously. She wanted to… to know his world, and be part of it - learn from him and with him. But these were her long-term wishes. What did she want _right now?_

To let him to do whatever he wanted with her, to not let her think about anything else but him, to feel free to discover her body… She wanted him to touch her. And definitely keep kissing her. And talk. Damn, yes, more fucking talking.

“Just…” Her voice was shaking a bit? Really? That had to happen now? Fucking nerves. “Just keep going, _please_. I like the way you’re touching me…” _And talking, mention the talking. The Talking!_ “…And talking.”

There! Was it hard?

* * *

_“I need to beg to you to finally ruin me?”_

The question, even with that touch of annoyance, zinged straight through him. Not just to ruin her (and _god_ he loved that word-- to _ruin_ her, to take this beautiful precious thing and make it his, unfit for anyone else, god that was hot) but to _finally_ ruin her. How long had she been thinking about this? Knowing Evie, this was only the straw that broke the camel’s back. She didn’t make decisions spur-of-the-moment, not like he did. Fuck, that meant she’d been wanting this for however long - been wanting _him_ for however long. He groaned his pleasure at the idea, nipping at her earlobe as he waited for her to continue.

He could feel the heat off her face, and he smiled against her skin, releasing her chin to trace straight down her neck again, catching on the next fastened button and waiting there, circling around it, too teasingly patient. She cleared her throat and he nibbled at her neck, encouraging her. When her voice shook he only continued to kiss and suck and tease at her skin with his teeth -- nothing she could admit would make his attention stop. She had to know that. That he appreciated any attempt she made, that the fact that she was trying meant she was doing exactly what he’d asked and that she would be rewarded.

“Good girl,” he cooed, grinding his thigh between her legs. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” He kissed up her neck again before finding her lips once more. Small kisses, nipping at her lower lip, gradually becoming more intense as he slipped the button from its fastening, fingers slipping under the fabric to play lightly over her skin.

“Your mouth will be so filthy when I’m done with you,” he teased. “Goody-two-shoes Evie Frye, cursing like some _lusty strumpet._ ” He was grinning, even as fingers brushed over a nipple. “Begging for me to kiss you, to touch you…” His throat was as tight as his pants, voice a bit hoarse as he added, “…To fuck you.”

* * *

For a moment she felt like dying from the embarrassment. But when he was rewarding her for her honesty it didn’t seem to be that bad, after all. No, not that bad. She just had to get used to this; opening up was something Evie had some difficulties with, but her brother was the closest person to her – once, anyway – but he clearly could re-take that place.

If only she could just relax whenever she felt her muscles being tensed up and her brain over-hyped.

Just like now; a moment ago she was clearly on the edge of fear and nervousness, and now she just didn’t care about those feelings, feeling peacefully content, knowing she’d done well. Oh, she always loved to reach her achievements – that pushed her forward in school, too; doing well.

But the things he promised her… At first she giggled about it - how he toyed around with the idea of turning Good Girl Evie into a “lusty strumpet” - but it quickly choked into a moan as he did just what she’d asked of him: touched her. He still teased, but damn she loved it. The rest of his words just aroused her even more.

_“…To fuck you.”_

She’d imagined _that_ before. A lot. Had the idea the real thing was totally different, but hearing him wanting to fuck her almost felt like a punch in her stomach – or lower, and in a very-very good way. He had so many options and right now he wanted her. It was a brand new feeling – being wanted – and Evie already liked it.

“And how exactly will you make me be that filthy for you?” She just wanted to hear it, then feel it. Or both at the same time. The way Jacob described things turned her on _so much_ , it would be such a waste if she didn’t ask him to tell her what to do - hell, call her names, even.

* * *

That hitch in her voice - the moment she went from giggling to moaning - that was perfect. That was what he wanted from her; her joy and her pleasure and to make her _feel_ things. He caught their thoughts aligning: _make_. Good to know. She wanted him to _make_ her. He could most certainly do that.

His hold on her hair released, fingers teasing at the nape of her neck before his hand skimmed down her body, resting on her hip as his other hand played with a breast, thumb tracing tiny circles on the peak of her nipple. “It won’t be difficult.” He shifted back a little, just for a moment, adjusting his stance as he gripped onto her thigh, hooking her leg around him and rolling his hips against her as his other hand gave her a quick tweak. “You already want it so bad…”

Once he felt her leg wrapping around him, squeezing him against her, he let his grip go, running his splayed hand down her thigh, no longer a teasing half-touch but heavy with the weight of a promise. A promise that he could make her feel things she’d never felt before. He cupped her ass, kneading into firm muscle. He could feel heat pouring off of her, but didn’t bring his hand too close, fingertips just barely brushing the hem of her underwear. His breath slid down her neck, voice practically a growl. “So wet for me, aren’t you?”

* * *

He became a bit rougher, just slightly, and she didn’t oppose - only swallowed a bit, enjoying the feeling.

His hand on her bare thigh sent some more sparklers toward her hips, welcoming him edging closer, and painfully throbbing for his touch. No one had touched her there before – well, except herself, but that didn’t really count. And now she wanted nothing more than for him to touch her where she needed it most.

But Jacob wasn’t the only one hungry for the feel of naked skin under his palm and fingers; she wanted to feel him, too, without any barrier between them. A hand slipped down his front from his chest, sneaking under his shirt – he still wore his clothes from earlier in the day. It would be easier if he’d change to his sleeping clothes, but it was fine-- more than fine. Firm muscles and tender skin; such a lovely contrast, and so very real, way better than she’d imagined it.

There was no point lying to him – she _was_ wet for him, very much so – but Evie could still tease him with it.

“You have to find that out on your own…”

Oh yes, she wanted him to find out.

* * *

It was like a tiny devouring flame, a spark that roared to life, how badly Jacob wanted to just _do_ it - to shove his hand between her legs, thrusting his fingers into her, grinding at her clit, playing her like she played her stupid fucking violin. He wanted her writhing and hardly able to hold herself up, panting and crying his name. He bit hard at her neck again, a violent urge he fell to easily. His blood felt too fast, surging in him, his cock straining against his jeans as his hands became rougher, harder, eager and demanding and--

The phone rang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love interruptions. I really do. XD Brownie points to anyone who can correctly guess who's calling. Here's a clue: they're a bit of an entitled bitch, tbqh. ;]  
> \- aFOF
> 
> I also love interruptions. Feel the tension :P The twins definitely feel it xD - UM


	8. Chapter 8

Jacob froze, mouth still resting against her skin, forehead against the wall as he breathed heavily.

He should answer it, he knew he should -- if they were calling it was because texts had been ignored and they needed something. His groan was muffled against her.

It rang again.

The hand around her thigh squeezed once more, fingertips slipping under fabric. _Jesus Fucking Christ_ he was right. So fucking wet. He was barely touching her, just sliding the tip of his finger up and down her slit and - _fucking christ_.

More ringing.

His voice was growled through clenched teeth. “Answer it.” It was a command he hadn’t anticipated giving, but there it was, hanging heavy in the air as he pressed a finger to either side of her clit, cupping her in his palm.

Shit, he needed her. He needed to be inside of her, needed her spasming around his cock - he adjusted his hips again, restless.

* * *

The biting was more forceful this time – her neck would be purple all over by tomorrow, that was for sure – making her cry out a bit, her skin turning angry red – not like it bothered him. It was fine, a bit surprising maybe, mostly how hungry Jacob seemed to be, like he really, truly wanted to mark her, and painfully so – did he do this with all of his partners?

The harsh sound of his phone broke their noises; their mixed panting, her moans and cries, his grunting and growling, dragging them back to the present.

Jacob was hesitant, clearly annoyed by the constant ringing, and torn between ignoring it to keep torturing her or letting her go to answer the phone. In the end he ignored it, fingers sneaking under the soft fabric of her underwear and touching her in all of her wet glory, making her mewl.

The caller just didn’t want to give it up. Jacob was more annoyed by it than Evie – who was quite focused on his fingers, wandering her skin, slowly discovering every inch of her.

_“Answer it.”_

Those two words made her stare at him, eyes huge with wonder. Really? Did he really just order her to answer the phone while he was on her, more than ready to be _in_ her, and apparently didn’t even plan to stop?

The idea was shocking, but also fascinating. Dangerous and tempting. The situation itself was still so new to her; they’d just stepped into the world of a taboo, something what was morally _highly questionable._ And Jacob already wanted to push her forward this much, involve someone else in this – even if that someone had no idea what was happening?

It was just too much. Way too much to ask of her. She wasn’t sure she wouldn’t just say no to it -- she _had_ to say no to it - she couldn’t - they _shouldn’t_ do this, this was insane…

But her hand still moved to fulfill his request – she had no idea why. Maybe it was the way he said it. Maybe she liked the idea, toying with the feeling of being exposed – oh God, was she an exhibitionist, too? Not just mentally twisted for drooling over her own twin and having bad thoughts about him? Or did she just want to be a good girl for him that badly?

His phone was on the desk next to them, and she felt how her fingers closed around it, lifting it, looking at the screen about to unlock it.

Fuck, this was crazy.

* * *

He didn’t expect her to actually reach for the phone.

His eyes went wide, the very real possibility of it being someone who knew Evie - of it being _their father_ \- flashing through his head. “-Fuck, wait-” He’d been so focused on keeping himself from just bending her over his desk and fucking her that he’d clearly lost common sense. Jacob untangled himself from his sister, slapping the phone out of her hand and stepping away, raising his hands before him like he might fend her off. They were going too fast. He had to go slow, be patient, not push her into whatever crossed his filthy mind.

“Jesus-- _Fuck_ , Evie, _no_.” He stared down at the phone, still buzzing and ringing on the carpet, regaining his breath. He glanced at his still-glistening hand, almost in shock, his other hand running through his hair nervously. “Jesus,” he breathed again, the phone ringing one last time before it went silent.

Finally, he looked back to Evie. He was almost in awe of her, as much as her actions had jolted him straight out of his stupor. So willing. So _goddamn_ willing, for all her teasing. “Evie, I’m an idiot,” he stated, bluntly. “You know this.” He shook his head, dazed. “I’m a complete fucking dumbass, and you’re allowed to say _no_ \-- in fact, you probably _should_ say no.” Especially if his request was something so absolutely moronic that could get the both in ridiculous amounts of trouble. “Fuck, I’m- that was… so stupid…” he muttered to himself, sucking his fingers clean absently as his brow creased in irritation. Not at her. Obviously not at her - and she tasted fucking delicious, of course she did - but _dammit_ he’d been an idiot. He needed to think this through, if they were going to keep this up.

* * *

Everything seemed to be just right and she almost, _almost_ picked the phone up. The only reason she didn’t was Jacob.

He hit it out of her hand, and it landed on the carpet with a thump – still ringing. She looked at her brother, who was stepping away from her, clearly not happy with her.

Why? What did she do wrong? She only did as he asked. It had worked before, how had she suddenly gone from a good girl to a bad one?

 _“I’m a complete fucking dumbass, and you’re allowed to say_ no _– in fact, you probably_ should _say no.”_

Say no? But, she thought… if she didn’t just do what he told her… How was following his orders bad? Then why did he tell her to do it in the first place…

While he started to clean himself off – with his tongue, reminding her of cat grooming itself, such an idiotic thought – Evie reached up to button up and try to collect herself. She needed a shower. Definitely.

And then? Who knows. People were usually unhappy with her when she made a mistake. Ethan clearly showed his disappointment when she didn’t have the results he wanted, and her teachers also expected her to be the best student in class - and she hated their pitying faces whenever she made a mistake. She couldn’t endure that look from Jacob as well. Pity. Or anger. She already had plenty of judges, she didn’t need a new one.

Finished rebuttoning her shirt, she took a moment to think about what she should do next; tell him something? _‘I don’t care about your excuses.’_ Usually that was the answer if Evie tried to explain why she did what she did. She’d heard it so many times over the years, she knew it was pointless to try to tell her side of the story. Maybe he had something to tell _her_ – like fuck off – and that would be a clear message to get out of his room.

* * *

She was buttoning up her shirt. Jacob frowned. Dammit, he’d messed it up. He was doing it wrong.

Fuck - he’d introduced partners to this stuff before, he shouldn’t feel so clumsy about it. Then again, he was used to more experienced partners, partners who came to him (and for him) knowing exactly what they wanted from him. Evie was a gloriously blank slate. And he wanted to scribble all over her, mark her up, write his name again and again, but it just felt… wrong. Not because she was his sister (and god, wasn’t that fucked up, that it barely even bothered him at the moment), but because she was so… well, willing. And he wanted to test that willingness, to take full and entirely consenting advantage of that, but beyond that there was something else. He wanted _her_ to be the one writing his name. It should be _her_. He could suggest, he could offer, but this was _her_ choice and _her_ desires. And he was deathly curious to know what those desires were.

They’d need to talk about this. But fuck, he didn’t want to scare her. What if she woke up tomorrow morning and regretted all of it? What if she changed her mind? He wanted to open doors for her, not intimidate her (okay, well, intimidating might be fun, but not _really_ intimidating).

Also, fuck, he needed to get off.

He made no effort to hide the small squeeze he gave himself, not quite so bold as to drop trou but not having a problem with a bit of a casual grope.

“What time is it-” The question wasn’t really awaiting an answer as he bent to pick up his mobile. His head turned automatically toward her, barely noticing how her scent drew him in, tempted him to trace his fingers up her legs and delve tongue-first between them. Glancing instead to the screen, his frown deepened. “...Fucking Starrick,” he muttered darkly. Like he didn’t take enough pleasure in being the absolute most self-absorbed of Jacob’s partners, he had to ruin tonight as well. Fucking asshole, thinking Jacob was at his beck and call just cause he was a great lay.

He scrolled through the texts he’d missed, all some variation of ‘I’m free, why aren’t you.’ “We should talk, Evie.” Finally he slipped the phone away, looking at her again. “I want to keep doing this.” He lead with that. He couldn’t emphasize enough that he liked what they’d done, that he didn’t blame her at all and wasn’t in any way disappointed. She was amazing, she should know that. _He_ was the one fucking things up all the time.

* * *

She watched him looking through his missed calls and messages from the last few minutes – and his mood darkened quickly. What kind of people were contacting him? Jacob seemed to have a never-ending list of “friends” and “connections” – she definitely wanted to ask him about it.

Yes, they should talk, there was a lot to talk about. But him saying he wanted to keep going made her wonder.

“Why? I messed up. Everybody hates that, so… I guess you have others to pick from.”

She didn’t say it to hurt him – she was telling him because she strongly believed she wasn’t worth the time and effort to teach her to catch up. Why should Jacob waste his time on her, when he already had a huge collection of partners he could easily pick from, according to his current taste and mood. Probably the mysterious caller was one of them.

* * *

He cocked his head, bemusedly raising an eyebrow. “‘Everybody hates that?’ V, you know you’re talking to patient zero, number one most wanted, grade A fuckup right here, right?” He gestured to himself. He'd heard it most of his life; Shit in school, shit at following directions, shit at most things that weren’t sex and violence (or, sometimes, both at the same time). “Besides that-- what on earth did you do wrong?” Aside from buttoning up her shirt again. That was obviously a crime.

* * *

This idiot. It was impossible to not love him, no matter how fucked up he was or what shit he caused. Her lips slowly stretched into a smile, then a giggle escaped from her, gradually developing into a laugh. He was right, after all. She was the perfectionist and he just… enjoyed life? Probably, yes.

His question made her think. It was that she _didn’t know_ what she did wrong.

“I… don’t know,” she admitted, hating the feeling of not knowing something. “I just… well, you were clearly displeased, and I just… don’t want that.”

Clearly. It was pointless to do something he hated and found annoying-- or worse.

* * *

He sucked a breath in through his teeth at her admission, stepping closer to her again and cupping her face in his hands. “That is- that’s a beautiful sentiment,” he assured her. Someone so focused on his pleasure? Yeah, the idea was nice. “But--” His wandering attention was drawn by a loose strand of hair and he started to twirl it around his finger. “...Remember that time in primary school when you really went for the throat with Anne Johansson after she wanted to cast you as the jester in some stupid pretend game?” Evie had had none of it, it had been a glorious display of will. “That’s what I want for you. I want you to know what you want, what you _don’t_ want, and do a thing because you want to and not _just_ because someone tells you to. Even if that someone is me.”

He looked away from playing with her hair, meeting her eyes again. “I love that you’ll be weak for me. I do. But you need to be strong for yourself.” He hesitated for a second, feeling a bit awkward putting words to it. “This… sort of thing… It’s not fun unless both of us want to do it.” He cocked his head back and forth, already contradicting himself. “Or… well, I mean, there are some things where it’s not that you _want_ to do it but you want to be made to do it anyway…” Dismissing that thought, he shook his head. “We have to talk about it either way. If this is going to happen…” And it was, wasn’t it? It felt like it was. “...we have to talk about it.”

* * *

At first she thought Jacob was mocking her, or being sarcastic – he never really was an emotional guy, after all – but she quickly realized that wasn’t the case. He meant it. Maybe he was still being a _bit_ sarcastic, but he didn’t mock her. It was just the way he was.

Oh God, that memory. It put a smile on her face, feeling nostalgic. “Yes, I remember… God, Father was so angry… I punched her in the face – her nose was bleeding, even.” She liked that fierce little girl she once was – maybe a bit too wild, but she didn’t take shit from anybody. Had she changed much since? Evie hoped she hadn’t, hoped she still had it in her.

“I didn’t know you liked me being a stubborn bitch,” she teased. Jacob usually described her as the annoying sister, who almost always told him no. Well, that would change from now on; she wouldn’t be telling him off just to annoy him, like when they were 13. “I do know what I want, I just didn’t talk about _this_ with anyone, because of obvious reasons. Including you. Even if you did some-- weird stuff, I thought this would be a bit too much to have a nice conversation about.”

Oh yes, because a casual conversation of _‘hey bro, could you screw me senseless in every possible way you can imagine?’_ was definitely something most siblings didn’t talk about.

But now, knowing that he wanted to keep going, talking seemed to be a smart step to take. She had so many questions, not knowing a lot about this brand new world, and was more than willing to try out new things with him. But barely knowing her options didn’t help at all.

“I’m not against talking – I’m a quick learner, you know.” She smiled softly, wondering at how caring her brother could be – and how much she liked this softer side of his. Hmmm, she’d already learned some things tonight; she’d been weak and a wet mess for his dominant personality within seconds, but emotions also suited him, and very much so. _Very_ much so. Damn, could he be a little less hot and tempting for a second?

* * *

“Yeah, well, try not to punch _me_ in the face, hm?” He smirked. “Stubborn as you want, princess -- and if you want me to break you of it, I will.” He could _make_ her, if that was what she wanted.

_“...Even if you did some-- weird stuff, I thought this would be a bit too much to have a nice conversation about.”_

So she _had_ been thinking about this. For… a while. Words tripped at the tip of his tongue - teasing words about her perversion - but he didn’t say them. Again, better not shame her unless she really wanted to be shamed. He’d ask about it, later.

_“...I'm a quick learner, you know.”_

The smirk widened into a grin. “Evie Frye, such a clever girl.” He tapped a teasing finger at the tip of her nose before pulling away. “Go take a shower, brainiac.” He jerked his chin over his shoulder at the bathroom door. “Get yourself off. We don’t want your hungry little cunt getting in the way of a nice clear-headed conversation, do we?”

* * *

Him, forcing his will onto her? Fucking yes please!

“Write it on the top of the list.”

She definitely loved his light mood and easy teasing, it calmed her nerves down, made her more relaxed and easygoing.

_“Get yourself off. We don’t want your hungry little cunt getting in the way of a nice clear-headed conversation, do we?”_

Now this gave her ideas.

“And how you will endure knowing I’m touching myself in the next room thinking about you and not coming over to watch it? Should I close the door?” The smile on her face didn’t disappear, making it clear she wasn’t really worried or afraid about it - merely poking him a bit more.

* * *

He felt his pulse thud just a bit louder at her words. Teasing him. Again. God, he couldn’t wait until he could make her follow through on all her teasing… His fingers twitched, wanting to grab hold of her again, slip his hand into her panties and make her cum for him right then and there, but he held back. He ached with how bad he needed to get off. Fuck, his brain was already filling in all the blanks, setting the scene, and he wanted her to--

“Jesus woman, you’re going to be the death of me.” His look might have been a glare, if not for the wry grin. “I’ll tell you what: if you’re feeling so confident, I expect to hear you moaning my name _through_ the door.” Fuck, he could cum to that. “Think about all those twisted little fantasies of yours. You want to make a list? Let’s make a list.” It was so hard to keep his hands off her, but he stuffed them in his pockets. “Go. Clean that filthy mind of yours as well, you deviant.” Of course, he didn’t want that. No, he liked a dirty mind. Especially, it seemed, on Evie.

* * *

Laughing, she did as he said and walked back to her room, closing the door behind her.

Being alone made her even more aware of what had just happened. She’d just… they’d just… broke through a barrier. It didn’t leave any bad feelings behind -- Evie was mostly just relieved; no more sleepless nights thinking about how she had a serious problem, no more self-hatred, no more mental punishment, no more loneliness… That was the best part. She wasn’t alone in this anymore.

Even if it was still highly questionable and no one could know about it. No one. But somehow Evie was able to feel… normal-ish again. It was weird, because she shouldn’t feel normal, but knowing Jacob hadn’t freaked out, that he wanted this as well, just helped her accept these fantasies and desires. She had someone to be abnormal with – and it was fine with her.

Closed doors, she couldn’t forget. She was free to do whatever she wanted behind closed doors.

And that reminded her of the task ahead of her – a task she was more than eager to complete, because hell yes she needed some “me-time” and not only because Jacob said so – and wasn’t that hot? – but because she still had very vivid memories of last 30 minutes and her body was screaming at her do give it some relief. And maybe she wouldn’t be so silent this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may start to wonder: do we write anything that isn't smut?  
> The answer is no. Well, okay, not entirely no. Obviously, there were some non-smut moments here. But this project is just.... so thirsty.  
> \- aFOF
> 
> Don't try to make it nicer, we write porn and only porn xD - UM
> 
> Lies! I'll have you know I have written a variety of G and T-rated fics on my main that are not (entirely) smut!  
> But yes; together, it's almost all porn.  
> Oooh, also Starrick is one of Jacob's fuck buddies, whoops, forgot to mention that. It's hatefucking, entirely hatefucking.   
> -aFOF


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick heads up; there is no skirting around the whole 'they're twins' thing here. I get that that may squick some people out. Personally, I share Jacob's opinions on the topic (a little weird to talk about regularly, but kinda hot as part of taboo-oriented dirty talk), so I get that it may not be everyone's bread and butter, even in this inherently incestuous ship. Totally fair, bro -- you do you.  
> Also, this is a rare non-smut chapter. Enjoy it while it lasts; these aren't exactly common for this story XD  
> \- aFOF
> 
> Well, this is an incest story, so we did not change their relation and I think it is only natural for them to mention/talk about their connection - and even use it in their dirty talks. In my opinion Evie is more open-minded about this topic, she doesn't feel shame or guilt - well, she did, before discovered her brother was as twisted as she is, but having him at her side in this frees her of that guilt - but respects his request to not mention the twin-thing too often. - UM

Jacob made a concentrated effort to completely satiate himself before Evie was done with her shower. None of his usual tricks; he’d had about as much teasing as he could take already, he just wanted to cum. Which he did. Once before she’d ever entered the shower, his imagination running wild, and again a good time later, following the third (or was it fourth?) time he heard his name moaned through the door.

The usual post-orgasm shame kicked in for a moment, but her moans and whimpers only served to reinforce his argument with himself: they were both over 16. They were consenting adults. Yes, they were… well… But _aside_ from the whole family thing. He’d made sure she wanted this. And he _definitely_ wanted this. Maybe not for as long as she’d been wanting it, but still.

He just wanted to do it right.

Once he’d finished, cleaned up, and changed into his pjs, flicking on his lamp and off his overhead lights, he grabbed a mostly-blank notebook from his school bag before launching himself onto his bed. Grabbing for a pen on his bedside table, he opened to an empty page. He felt like he should be taking notes. Instead, he doodled. Not really pictures as much as spirals, occasionally jotting down a word or two, reminders of things to bring up.

_Boundaries_ , he wrote down. _Red/Yellow/Green._ _Yes words/no words. Names? Pain?_

God, what was he even doing? It wasn’t like negotiating with his usual hookups. Evie was so innocent, it was-- he choked on a laugh. _Practically criminal._ Fuck. It was all criminal. Or anything involving _her_ would be.

After another moment, he chucked the notebook back toward his bag. Idly he tossed the pen a few times, seeing how many times he could spin it before catching. Nah, Evie was smart, too. She’d do her own research. Just because she didn’t know _now_ didn’t mean she wouldn’t. Hell, there’d been a time when _he_ knew nothing. But sex had a way of catching his interest - go figure - and it was the one topic he’d been self-motivated to learn about. He’d stare at a history book mindlessly rereading passages over and over again without taking in a single thing. But give him a toy box and he wanted to know how it all worked, why people liked it, how to use it - everything, he wanted to learn it all. His youtube history was a minefield of educational videos and interviews, he’d poked around the SFC website, and he had capital-P Plans for November, hitting up a club in London once he turned 18.

He twirled the pen in his hand, over and over, making a rhythm of it. The shower had stopped what felt like ages ago. But he knew Evie had a longer bedtime routine than he did. His other hand tapped against his bare stomach, a counter-beat to the click of the twirling pen: little triplets to the steady beat on the plastic. He was expecting her to come to him. But maybe he should go to her? But if he did that, and she felt uncomfortable, it was on her to tell him to leave instead of just leaving herself. But if she came to _him_ , maybe she’d feel too out of her comfort zone. Should they meet in between?

_TAPtaptapTAPtaptapTAPtaptapTAPtaptap_

He’d thought maybe he’d just give her free reign on the toy box, let her ask all the questions she needed, but maybe that would be too intimidating. He was just… too enthusiastic, maybe. Had to calm down a bit, slow down.

_TAPtaptapTAPtaptapTAPtaptapTAPtaptap_

Was he overthinking this? Maybe they should just… talk. Yeah, like the sort of thing that came up in games of truth or consequences. That was an idea. Trading truth-for-truth. They’d done that as kids, hadn’t they? Over stupid stuff. When their father had stopped getting them babysitters and let them fill their own time -- that year before they’d started going to different schools, started growing apart. _What do you think mom was like?_ He still remembered asking her.

_TAPtap---TAPtaptap---tapTAPtap---_

His beat puttered out.

He glanced up.

Evie was waiting at the door.

He slid into more of a sitting position, his back against the pillows at his headboard, tossing the pen aside. “Hey.”

* * *

He was very deep in his thoughts. She liked that; just standing there, watching him think. Was it creepy? Well, not creepier than wanting him to fuck her.

It took a few minutes for him to realize she was there, but Evie didn’t mind. It was just nice to finally be at peace around him, able to watch him. It was simple, but still so satisfying for some reason.

He greeted her with a soft hey, which she returned, then walked next to him and sat down on the edge of his bed. The shower helped – and not only because of the dirty things she did under it – it refreshed her. She’d changed into a simple shirt and shorts and climbed into her bed to try to sleep, but she just couldn’t do it like that.

“What were you thinking about so much?”

They’d both agreed they needed to talk, and even if Evie planned to have a good sleep before that and some time to collect her thoughts about the topic, it turned out differently; her brain was way too active to let her rest, and Jacob seemed to have the same problem.

* * *

He shifted sideways, though there was plenty of space on the bed for her, slinking down to lay on his back once more, arms crossed behind his head as his gaze turned to the ceiling.

“Just-” He stopped himself. He was about to say ‘nothing’ but suspected setting a precedent of honesty was the best way to go. He scratched idly at the back of his head. The dim lighting, helped. And the fact that he wasn’t looking at her. A small frown creased his brow. “I don’t want to fuck it up, really,” he admitted, voice a quiet rumble, entirely serious. “I want you to like this. And I don’t want to throw you into the deep end, either.”

Glancing over at her, he added, not quite defensively, “This is honesty hour, by the way. So… no judgment zone.” It was as much to protect himself as her. “Communication is pretty essential to… all of this.” He quickly looked away again, tiptoeing around naming whatever it was they intended to do.

* * *

“Are you usually this worried for your partners well being?”

It wasn’t the first time tonight she noticed how he handled their case, how it seemed so important to him. But Evie knew he had multiple partners, and even if she had her romantic - and maybe a little naive -  thoughts about the topic, her logical side knew he’d probably continue to see others – and she had no right to ask him not to. His other partners were more experienced; Jacob knew himself, and if he needed something she couldn’t really give to him yet - or at all - then he could find it somewhere else. He didn’t promise anything to her. And it wasn’t like it could really be a _relationship_ either. They just… well… Evie had no idea how to label this.

She slipped closer to him as he gave her more space, laying beside him.

“I doubt you can fuck it up – I mean you obviously _can,_ but I doubt you _will._ I don’t really know what to expect, so…” She shrugged it off, never finishing her sentence.

Honesty hour? Seemed fair. Was it too early to ask serious questions?

Evie didn’t want to bring it up - what _this_ made them - maybe later. Right now it would be... too creepy? But she was curious about his side of this story; what he wanted from this, how he felt about it.

“What do you want from this? I can’t be the only one who has a list.” She smiled at him, pinching his side playfully.

* * *

_“Are you usually this worried for your partners well being?”_

“Yes,” he answered, completely straightforward. Then he paused. “Well, no. Most of the time.” Not with _fucking_ Starrick.

If it was weird to talk other partners, Jacob didn’t pick up on it. He was used to being pretty openly non-monogamous. Not just non-monogamous but non-relationship. It hadn’t yet crossed his mind that that may need to change. Or that he very well might want it to.

Just cause she didn’t know what to expect didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck up, just that she wouldn’t be able to tell right away. He shrugged a little. Not super comforting, but he’d already decided this was going to be a real test for him, proving some kind of something to himself. Maybe just… that he was good at something. If he could be good at this.

He pulled a face at her teasing pinch, hand crossing over his stomach to grab her hand. “No pinching.” It lacked his usual teasing smirk. This wasn’t a request, it was a limit. He softened the seriousness of his tone by rubbing a small circle on her palm before slipping his fingers into hers.

“I’m… not sure,” he answered her question. A small smile curved his lips, just a tiny touch of mischief. “I mean- you’re hot.” He shot her a look, splitting into a grin for a moment. “But-” He glanced away again, tone warm. “Well, you’re…” Again, not quite naming what they were doing. “We’re close. I want you to be happy. And have fun. And I think we could do that for each other.” They seemed compatible enough. She’d gotten all wide-eyed and submissive when he’d gotten strict… and that felt about right.

“My turn.” He stroked his thumb along her hand absently. “So…” There were things he wanted to ask, things that immediately piqued his interest, but he held back. “Sexual history. What has miss Evie been up to in those late night sessions at the reading room?” He doubted she was hooking up there, but that wasn’t the point of the question. It was one he hardly thought she’d offer of her own volition, and one he felt he should know.

* * *

Her hand went flat against his skin where she pinched him, soothing the spot. “Sorry,” she replied with a small smile. It wasn’t mean to be sexual teasing, but it was still more information to know and store about him.

“We’re siblings, you can say that out loud. Because it’s a fact; we are.” She sighed, a bit irritated, that one simple fact caused so many problems. “I know it would be easier if we weren’t related, and if you do feel uncomfortable because of that I can understand. If you choose to walk away from it, I wouldn’t be offended about it – that would probably be the smarter choice. I don’t want to manipulate you into anything. Besides, it would be a hell of a secret to keep.”

She was thinking about this a lot – the pressure of it, what if others found out, what would happen then… if she could live like this or not. But being tortured by denying the things she wanted to do felt just as bad.

“I just want us to be 100% sure about this. I’m willing to try if you are, but we do need to know about the consequences of our decision, whatever we choose.”

It didn’t really matter if they ended up just fucking or sharing something more – and Evie was afraid she would be interested in sharing something more, but kind of expected Jacob wouldn’t feel the same. She needed to be prepared to accept that – society wouldn’t tolerate either situation.

And there was the other thing, knowing he’d go out and see others as well. Evie needed to stay focused and never forget that was what it was, no more, no less.

_“What has miss Evie been up to in those late night sessions at the reading room?”_

That made her snort, then laugh. What he did expect, reading some filthy books and doing things she shouldn’t do?

“Sorry to disappoint, but you know the exact answer to that question. I was studying. No dirty secrets there.”

Well, not _there,_ true. She was rather naughty in her room, but usually when he wasn’t around, minimizing the risk of getting caught by him. Well... before all of this.

“As for past partners, I can’t share much; there was a random boy, some kissing and touching, but nothing more.”

* * *

_“...I don’t want to manipulate you into anything.”_

A small smile worked its way onto Jacob’s lips and he let out a small huff of laughter. And here he’d been so concerned it was the other way around. As she went on, though, his smile slid to something more serious, more resolved. This was good. They’d both thought about this. Or, at least, tried to. It wasn’t being taken lightly, in any case.

_“...I was studying. No dirty secrets there.”_

He hadn’t entirely expected a dirty answer, that sounded about right. Though, now that she mentioned it… perhaps that was something to add to his list. He kind of _was_ surprised by her second admission, though. Just one? One boy? He… wasn’t sure how to react to that. Careful not to let his concern show, he just nodded. But-- only one boy before him? That put an awful lot of responsibility on his shoulders. Jacob had never been one for responsibility.

Until now, apparently. Because he’d already resolved to make this good for her.

Even being almost the same height, his hands were far bigger than hers. Still staring at the ceiling, his brain chugging along, grinding gears and thinking thoughts, he barely noticed as he brought her hand closer, their entwined fingers resting on his chest. “Your turn,” he reminded her.

* * *

She looked at him, thinking for a minute or two, observing his resting figure.

“How did you end up doing this?”

And not just how - when - but also…

“Why?”

A weird thought formed in her head -- maybe too weird, because he was too young for this sort of thing at that time, definitely, but she needed to ask anyway.

“Was this a reason you kept your distance from me?”

That still hurt her and she still didn’t know what happened between the two of them – Evie was sure it couldn’t be just his fault, but hers too. But what went wrong between them as siblings was still a mystery, and it still hurt her. He was the closest person to her and one day he just wasn’t there anymore.

* * *

“What? No, of course not.” He shot her an odd look. She thought he’d been avoiding her for this? Well… “I mean, not at first. Obviously. But maybe more recently, I guess. It’s not like I was trying to hurt you or anything, it’s just-- well, it’s private, isn’t it? Not _really_ any of your business.” There was a wry smile at that, knocking her foot with his before rolling his head back again.

“I got into it a few years ago-- started doing research, anyway. I mean… it was kinda… a thing before.” There were definitely some moments he could look back on after the fact and realize - well shit, he’d been telegraphing this stuff even when he was younger. But the internet made a lot of tastes readily available. He was just curious enough to go poking around. “And I wanted to try it. It looked fun, and just… hot, y’know? So… yeah. Started off with the basics, gradually read more and learned some of the shit I was doing wrong and fixed it.” The shrug was awkward when lying down.

“It’s a fuckin’ rush is what it is. There’s science to it, actually -- especially with stuff like impact play -- that’s, like, spanking and stuff-” His mouth had started running away with him, his enthusiasm obvious as he continued. “It has to do with neurotransmitters - adrenaline and dopamine and serotonin - endorphins - all that. Really interesting stuff. Plus, like, the psychology around power play, all this social stuff and how the taboo hits just the right spots to make things really fuckin’ hot-” A jolt went through him at the realization that, when it came to taboo - even if he’d initially referred to kink in general - he was really bang-on with whatever was going on between the two of them.

Jacob paused. “Is that--” His hand had tightened on hers, and he quickly let go. “Is that a thing for you? Like… is that part of the draw?” He tried to keep his tone casual, even though he was intensely curious. “Not that- I don’t mean that it’s bad. It’s okay if it is. I just- I mean, well, am I gonna be reminding you about this for fun or is it just going to make you cringe?” On his end… well… he wasn’t quite sure. But when he thought of whispering in her ear what a dirty girl she was for fucking her br-

He cleared his throat harshly. Not now. Later.

* * *

She listened his words carefully, making self-notes. Spanking, dominating, power play… they all sounded pretty interesting or even hot – she had some ideas of what they could mean, even if she hadn’t done the research _yet_ – not like he had. So… it seemed her ideas were all valid. And that meant she could ask him to try them out with her.

That was good news.

When Jacob mentioned taboos it poked her even more. “Into taboos, huh? I guess I might understand _why_ you didn’t freak out after all.”

Would she be into taboos as well? Hmm… probably. But only into this one or… would other ones work too?

“I always knew you were smart. And I’m not some kind of prodigy while you’re just a lost cause -- I never thought of you as a lost cause, even if others gave up on you and expected me to do the same. I think I knew you needed something, something that was able to catch enough of your attention for you to actually be interested in learning. Never thought it would be kinks and hardcore sex but- …oh wait, maybe I should’ve considered it after all.”

Knowing him how did she _not_ consider it before?

Her gaze was back on his face when he squeezed her hand.

_“Is that a thing for you?”_

It made her a bit confused, not really following.

“What, exactly? The fact you’re my brother? So - _that_ taboo part? Or the hardcore sex you can offer?”

Evie was thinking about _that_ way before knowing about his sexual taste and whatever underground world he was a part of; when she first started to notice how she felt about him, how her feelings weren’t exactly familial. Was it because he was unattainable for her? For two reasons; being her brother and treating her like a stranger? Was it because she missed him? Or because they were so close as kids; was it because they were twins?

She tried be interested in other boys – or girls even, who knows. And she did recognize when boys were handsome, and also recognized she had preferred traits – kindness, honesty, intelligence, a good personality – and maybe it didn’t really matter if a person was a boy or a girl; she rather appreciated their personality. Which was funny, because Evie was pretty sure lots of people would describe Jacob as an ass. But she knew he was smart and kind; he was a good person, even if he had bad habits. Everyone had bad habits -- she also had them. But even if she did notice others, she never felt the same about them as she felt about Jacob. She didn’t know why. She just… couldn’t feel the same about someone who wasn’t him. She tried, sometimes she almost convinced herself she was over that awkward phase of hers, but she never was, not for real.

* * *

A lost cause, huh? Well, that was their mistake. It’s not like he was failing everything. He was perfectly average, thanks. …Mostly. He’d maybe had to take summer classes once or twice, but whatever. Just a bit of a letdown in comparison to Evie, obviously. But she didn’t care. Which was nice. He fidgeted, hiding a smile. It kind of made him want to laugh, her calling it ‘hardcore sex’ so seriously.

He tensed a bit when they returned to… the whole… family thing.

_“What, exactly? The fact you’re my brother? So -_ that _taboo part? Or the hardcore sex you can offer?”_

“I just mean,” he shifted on the bed, a little agitated. “It’s not something I’m keen to be reminded about, if we’re honest. But then again, things are different if it’s coming along with strings attached. You know- sexy strings.” He kind of chuckled at that. “Talking frankly about it is one thing - and then it becomes a more serious conversation, cause - well, we know it’s illegal. And it could really fuck us up in the long run. But then…” He cleared his throat again. “I mean, I’m not opposed to a little teasing about it in the right circumstances. Just want to know if that’s cool. Don’t want to cross any lines.”

He paused, then added, “Speaking of lines… We should talk about that, at some point. And we should talk about your yeses, too.”

* * *

“We can’t really pretend we’re not related. To others we’re family, and if we go out together somewhere we have to act like that. You’ll be constantly reminded that we’re twins, without me saying a word about it.” It was a bit strange, it looked like Jacob wanted to forget that part of their lives. But he couldn’t. Based on her introduction to Terrence, her brother didn’t really mention to anyone that he had a sister, so to his friends she was practically a nonexistent thing. But she did exist. “I get what you mean, and no, I’m not bothered by that by any means. And… I agree, it has its positive effects in some situations.” In other words, it was hot.

Speaking of lists had her thinking for a moment. Jacob was right, they needed to talk about that, it was important. The thing was, she never really collected them together, and doubted if she did that it would ever be finished and stop changing. “We can always... edit the lists, I guess? Because even if I have my interests, I don’t really know every corner of this field and I’m totally up for suggestions. We can always talk about if someone wants to try something out. But I have some basic ideas, what I might want to do and what not.”

Things like getting orders, pushing her to her limits, hair grabbing, some spanking, dirty talking, bondage, name calling - did that even count? - some toys… She found all of those hot. And there were several things, she didn’t even want to think about; any kind of… um… butt stuff (beside spanking), anything like so-called ‘watersports’ (it was a bit shocking when she’d found out about that -- like ewww shocking, to her). Those were the hardcore porn things.

As for the maybes, well… That list was empty, so far. It depended on what he wanted to try out.

“I… do have some ideas I’d like to try, I think…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's never outright stated, but fun fact: Jacob did percussion in grade school and can still play drums decently. Evie did violin.  
> Also, excuse any clunkiness -- keep in mind, this was written as an rp (a trashy trashy rp) so some things are stated more blatantly than may be necessary in a differently structured story.  
> \- aFOF
> 
> Don't be mean, it's not a trashy RP XD - UM
> 
> ...  
>   
> \- aFOF


End file.
